Catch 22
by WonderWithMe
Summary: Revenge is best served cold, and it’s a term that the Winchester brothers are about to learn fast. As the boys rebuild themselves from the last hunt, a new attack exposes just how vulnerable the boys really are....
1. Games

**Welcome back gang ! Hope everyone is enjoying summer and looking forward to S3 in October. Firstly, thank you all to those who read 'Lying in Wait', thank you for all your wonderful reviews; they simply blew me away and helped encourage me to keep ploughing on with this one I'm still writing.**

**So where are we..? Well, we've now entered into the final instalment of the trilogy. Hope you all will enjoy it. If you've missed the previous two don't worry, there is enough of a 'flashback' in this chapter to bring you up to speed and if you're ever bored, you can go back and take a peek !:o)**

**As for little old me, I'm knee deep in writing my thesis, so I'll admit that for the next few weeks, updates won't be that often, but I'll try for at least once a week.**

**Thanks again for all your support, I always love hearing from you. So feel free to PM or leave a review. Now on with the first chapter….Mind Games…..**

Chapter One- Mind Games

Sam Winchester silently sunk onto the living room sofa.

It was almost 2am and he sat staring at the TV screen, in the darkness, the only light radiating around was from the working set.

His face glowing from the pictures on screen, he tucked his long legs at his side, pulled the blanket around him, picked up the remote, and turned the volume up a nudge.

Sam's brown hair fell off his face as he allowed his head to tilt back against the three seater sofa he sat on, and finally begun to feel his highly strung body relax.

To say he was stressed out would only scratch the surface.

The sleepless nights, the blocking out everything that had happened in the last few weeks, the whole trying to put it behind you and pretending that everything was ok; it was really beginning to get to him.

But the youngest Winchester didn't have a choice in the matter. He had to pretend that everything was ok, for Dean's sake.

Dean had been through hell.

And Sam knew that Dean had to get better.

Not that there was anything physically wrong with Dean, but mentally, that was a whole other mine field.

Dean was dealing with way too much, guilt being the major part of it. After all, being under some psycho demonic spirit's power, having it manipulate your thoughts and everything you did would send most people tittering near that dangerous edge.

Sam sighed at the memories that were instantly plunged into his mind.

Dean had tried to kill him.

Dean had held him down, having poisoned him and had then set about bleeding him out in some sick, satanic ritual.

Sam still had no idea what the spirit was after, or why it had chosen to use Dean as the go between. And if Sam was honest, he still wasn't even sure how he'd managed to kill the thing.

Well, maybe he hadn't been the one who'd actually pulled the trigger, but he as good as killed the bastard. Sam's own version of a bullet had done the trick.

But its warning right before it had been blown away by Dean.

The warning that it hissed at Sam.

_...Killing me will be the biggest mistake of your life..._

Sam had no idea what it had meant, but Dean had grabbed the gun and fired.

Since that night, that god damn awful night that would be etched on both boys memories for the rest of their lives, both Sam and his brother were trying to move on.

And if Sam was honest, it wasn't easy.

Gone was Sam's cocky, confident, get-up-and-go older brother.

Whatever the spirit had done to Dean, it had screwed him up big time.

Not that Dean would ever admit to it, oh heck no.

Things were peachy fine in Dean's world.

But Sam noticed the changes, and for Sam they were huge.

The fact that Dean just couldn't seem to shake the guilt regarding what he'd done to Sam. It didn't seem to matter how many times Sam sat him down and told him that he knew it was nothing to do with Dean. That his elder brother had been under the influence of evil. Dean just wouldn't buy it; he would sit there and simply tell Sam to shut up, that there was nothing wrong with him.

But there was.

Sam pulled the blanket around him a little more, using his legs to kick it out at the sides.

He was such a hypocrite.

Here he'd been for almost a week telling Dean that he still cared about him, that nothing between them had changed, that Dean was still his annoying older brother that he loved unconditionally. That things between them were ok.

And yet every single day, all Sam did was reassure Dean's fears that the one thing he couldn't get back from Sam was his trust.

Sam closed his eyes at that thought.

He did trust Dean, he trusted Dean with his life, his soul, with everything.

And yet this morning Dean had spent most of it on the deck staring at the breakfast the elder brother had made for them both, and had watched as Sam made up a lame excuse not to eat it.

Dean had tried to get him to at least drink some coffee, or juice, anything. Anything to put Dean's fading hopes back on track.

But Sam hadn't.

He just couldn't.

Sam had made an awkward excuse that he was feeling a little off colour and had gone back to his room. He'd then spent the rest of the morning standing by his window, watching Dean sitting on the deck, staring at the breakfast. Not once did Dean eat or drink any of it himself.

Sam finally allowed the remote to sit on the arm of the sofa, his tired body ultimately deciding on one of his all time favourite movies. He needed something to get his mind off the way things were.

It was all just too fake.

Everything between him and his brother at the moment was fake. Dean couldn't and wouldn't talk about what happened that night at the cliffs; he wouldn't even acknowledge the letter Sam had left for him even existed.

Yet the only thing that wasn't fake between them was the awkwardness.

The guilt that radiated off Dean was almost drowning Sam.

And Sam was beginning to disappear into his own guilt for adding to Dean's problems. If he would just freaking eat or drink something Dean gave him, then that would help, that would go such a friggin long way to stop some of Dean's guilt.

But no matter how much Sam pushed himself, willed himself, he just couldn't.

Dean had been drugging him for almost two weeks, slipping pills into his food and drink, rendering him useless and in a serious amount of pain.

Every single time Sam pushed himself to take a sip of even a glass of soda, warning sounds would go off in his head. Was this Dean, really his Dean..? Or was this just Dean being used as a puppet by someone else again.

Sam closed his eyes.

Dean never questioned why Sam no longer ate or drank with him anymore. In fact, in over a week, they hadn't even had a meal together.

Sam was secretly hoping that Dean wasn't noticing, that his excuses were good and that Dean was simply buying them.

Sam sighed.

Who the hell was he kidding...?

Then there was the issue of sleep. Or lack of it. Sam wasn't even sure anymore. He just couldn't sleep anymore. Every time he closed his eyes, he was taken back to one of too many scenarios the younger brother would pay to forget.

Like the night at the cabin where he'd failed his father and not killed the demon. Ok, it was a given that killing the demon would have also murdered his father in the process, but Sam was pretty sure, no make that one hundred percent sure, John Winchester had left because once again, Sammy just couldn't follow one friggin order without having to retaliate.

Then there was the whole crash itself.

At first it hadn't bothered Sam at all, mainly as he hadn't remembered much of it, but as expected, bits were beginning to form in his memory. The younger boy couldn't understand why this was bothering him so much. He'd been in worse situations in his life, seen worse things, had worse things happen than a freaking car crash; but yet it plagued him. When he closed his eyes, he could see his father lying beside him, blood everywhere, drowning in his own blood. Crawling into the back seat and realising that Dean was dying, his elder brother was clinging on for dear life. He could smell the horrid smell of metal, and taste the blood that had lined the inside of his mouth; he could still hear the hick song on the radio of the truck drivers cab, hear the sound of Impala crunching around them.

Then there was Dean.

That night on the cliff, that beautiful picturesque view of the beach, that had been marred by a man temporarily insane.

Sam cringed at the memory, remembering how Dean and stared at him through stony eyes which he'd never seen before. He'd seen the hatred in Dean's eyes and it had frightened him more than the spirit had. He'd talked, screamed, begged, fought, cried, anything to try and break the connection between Dean and the evil spirit.

Sam swallowed as he stared at his still bandaged wrist, knowing what lay hidden beneath. In fact he had slashes across both wrists, but the one on his right wrist was the worse. It wasn't healing very well, and it wasn't being taken care of that great either. It needed to be cleaned properly and bandaged much better, but he'd be damned if he would let Dean anywhere near him.

The little brother wasn't going to put Dean through the physical torture of having to clean and bandage the wounds that Dean had inflicted. The wounds that Dean had made ten times worse by using a knife dipped in poison.

Sam sighed as he wriggled down on the sofa and let his head lie on the arm. He didn't blame Dean at all. He'd made a conscious decision before hand that he would see this out. He knew that Dean had planned to sacrifice him out there; he knew what the poison would be used for, and knew that the chances were, he'd be killed.

But there was always hope and Sam had placed his life, and his brother's in faith and hope; and thankfully it had paid off.

It hadn't been the Winchesters destiny to die that night.

But while they still had their lives, the fallout was unimaginable for both of them.

" Hey..." Came a sleepy voice in the dark, " What are you doing up..?"

Sam jumped, his hand lightly touching his chest as his heart raced frantically in his body. He'd been so engrossed in his thinking he hadn't even heard anyone approaching.

Great hunter he was.

Sam's eyes refocused in the dark room, and he could see Dean standing in the dark. He then heard his brother shuffle over and came and stood at the foot on the sofa, his face turned to the movie on the television.

" Didn't mean to wake you.." Sam admitted managing a weak smile to Dean, as he glanced up at his elder brother of four years, " I'll keep the noise down, you go back and get some sleep..."

" I'm already up..." Dean said in an uneasy tone, as he stood awkwardly at the foot of the sofa, " What you watching...?" Dean asked, as he pointed to the movie.

" Rush Hour..." Sam said with a smile, " Dean, seriously, you're tired and you need sleep..."

" Something about a pot, a kettle and black..." Dean said with a grin as he folded his arms across his chest, " You string the sentence together..."

" Dude..." Sam said in a tried tone, " I'm not in the mood for a fight..."

" No, god, no.." Dean said as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, " I don't want to fight either..."

" Then go back to your room..." Sam said now refocusing on the movie, " You're disturbing me from my favourite film..."

" I didn't know you liked this movie..." Dean asked his interest heightened, " What's it about..?"

" Nothing you'll be interested in ok..?" Sam mumbled, " Nobody gets laid and there aren't any naked girls in it.."

" I'm always up for new things..." Dean said as he cautiously picked up the end of the blanket, " Mind if I stay and watch...?"

Sam looked up at Dean; he was uneasy already.

But he had to make the effort, he just had to. He hated the way things were between Dean and himself; he missed their old relationship like crazy. Sam had to do what he could to make Dean believe that things were ok between them, that Dean was still wanted and loved and that things were alright; even when Sam wasn't sure he believed they ever could be.

But Sam was sure on one thing.

They were brothers. Only brothers. They only had each other and Sam was determined that no friggin evil bastard like spirit was gonna destroy them. He'd fight for Dean until his dying breath left his body in every single battle. Now while this was not maybe a normal hunt, the situation was still exactly the same.

Sam had to fight for Dean.

" Only if you keep quiet..." Sam said with a tired smile " And you promise to look at the air conditioning tomorrow, it's friggin freezing in here !"

" Deal..." Dean said as he lifted the end of the blanket and then paused, " We need us some movie food, I think I spotted a bag of micro popcorn in the cupboard, hang tight while I go nuke it.."

Sam watched as Dean disappeared into the kitchen in the darkness exhaustion creeping into his body again.

He had to keep fighting.

For Dean's sake...

* * *

_...Popcorn, he'll eat popcorn, everyone eats popcorn, find someone who doesn't eat popcorn..._

Dean thought as he trotted into the kitchen and snapped on the light. Momentarily blinded he wondered over to the nearest cupboard and begun to hunt around for the yellow packet he'd spotted in there yesterday.

His hazel green eyes finally stopped squinting and he wondered over to the microwave, shoved the packet in and put the machine to three minutes. The elder brother lent against the work surface, his face set in a thoughtful expression as he stared numbly at the microwave.

Sam hated him.

Ok, no, that wasn't exactly true.

Sam should hate him.

Dean sighed at that notion. His little brother had every right in the world to hate him. Heck, at this point in Dean's life, he wasn't even sure if he liked himself. After all, he'd been so consumed with his own stupidity that he'd almost murdered his own brother.

Now, guilt, grief, pain and possibly even anger often made ordinary people do stupid things, but Dean rarely did stupid things without good reason, and Dean was anything but ordinary. Yet somehow he'd fallen foul to whatever the hell it was that he'd fallen foul too.

That bothered Dean more than Sam could ever understand. It had been five whole days since that night on the cliffs, and Dean had searched every single book they had in the trunk, every internet site he could search, hell, he'd even gone to the library to do research himself.

Each and every time Dean had returned with the same result as Sam.

Nothing.

Dean still had no idea what or who is was that had possessed him.

Dean sighed as that uncomfortable thought plundered through his mind, as the bell on the microwave gave off its cheesy alarm.

Possessed.

Frankly, Dean actually wished he had been possessed, at least then he could have said out loud to Sam that he had been possessed, and that technically, he was only a puppet in the game; but that wasn't true.

He hadn't been possessed; no matter how many times Sam said he had been, Dean knew he hadn't.

He had not been possessed.

Dean took a bowl from the cupboard and tipped the sweet bag of popcorn into the bowl and poked his head around the kitchen to see what Sam was doing.

" Dude, you want a soda..?" Dean called out. The elder brother already knew the answer, but each time he asked he secretly hoped that the answer would be different. He was still waiting.

" No, I'm good..."

Dean sighed as he looked around the fridge and found a bottle of beer. Looks like he'd be waiting for that answer for yet another day.

Dean trotted back towards the glow of the TV and handed Sam the bowl as he lifted the end of blanket and sat down on the sofa. Dean watched slightly wide eyed as Sam simply waited for his elder brother to be seated and promptly handed him back the bowl of popcorn and squashed himself into his side of the sofa.

Dean watched sadly.

Sam couldn't even bear to be near him anymore. It was evident from Sam's body language that Dean was about as welcome near him as a pack of starving cannibals.

" So what did I miss..?" Dean asked, as he flashed Sam a smile, hoping to break into a normal conversation with Sam.

" Nothing much..." Sam said quietly as he stifled a yawn, which Dean was quick to notice.

" You know, maybe you should try and get some sleep.." Dean said slowly, his eyes down staring into the popcorn bowl, his fingers brushing them.

" Can't sleep.." Sam said simply, he could feel Dean's eyes boring into the side of his head.

" Then how about some rest...?" Dean suggested, " Just stretch out and relax, you've been pretty wired the last few days, and you know how much I hate you when you're highly strung.." Dean kidded. " You get even more neurotic..."

Sam felt himself turn and stare at Dean. If he had any strength he'd have tipped that bowl of popcorn right over his big brother's head.

" You know what, Dean, I just want to watch this movie ok..?" Sam said in a controlled voice trying to keep any directed anger at Dean out of it.

However, judging from the look on Dean's face, Sam was pretty sure that he hadn't kept any anger out of it.

Instead, Dean went quiet, asked no more questions and continued to watch the movie in silence.

Sam on the other hand, sighed, rested his head on the side of the couch and tried to ignore the fact that when it came down to it, he was a pretty crap brother.

Sam's tired hazel eyes glanced over at Dean's face which was transfixed on the screen.

This was going to be a long night...

* * *

Sam's eyes slowly opened as the day light flooded the beach side apartment. It was then he realised that he couldn't move his arm. 

His eyes now awake he glanced down and was partly surprised and at the same time amused to find Dean against him, his head on his upper arm, fast asleep.

A smile mustered on Sam's face.

Talk about the biggest chick flick moment of Dean's life.

Curled up on the sofa fast asleep like a child, squashed against your little brother with a blanket over both of you; this stuff was gold dust for Sam, and would earn him a crap load of points in teasing games against his older brother.

Sam sighed inwardly and stared down at Dean who slept silently on him, he couldn't see his watch as it was trapped under his sleeping brother, but with his other hand he gently gripped Dean's wrist and pulled it up and glanced at the time.

8.20 am

It was pretty early, even for Sam.

As much as he would love teasing Dean about this sleeping arrangement, he had to admit that it was comfy and warm. With the air conditioning on full blast thanks to Dean going psycho at it a week ago, the beach side apartment had been turned into the Antarctic, and Sam was ready to admit that this was probably the warmest he'd been in over six days.

It was ironic watching Dean's head resting against his body, sleeping so sound. Partly to do with trust, his ability now to drop his guard around Sam, not that he ever did it willingly, but when it happened Sam liked it.

This was one of those times where Dean's natural, human, brotherly instincts had obviously kicked in; it was a shame that Sam had been asleep for most of it. In fact Sam was convinced that if he had been awake, this little chick flick moment would have never taken place.

Besides, as cute as the situation was, and as funny as Sam would make it for the next few weeks with this gold dust like ammunition to use against Dean; Dean needed the sleep.

His brother had been like a zombie the last week or so, and Sam didn't even want to go back to the three weeks before that. A whole month since the car crash and neither of them had had a good night sleep, but in Dean's case, he hadn't had any real sleep. Dropping asleep in the car on the odd occasion that Sam got to drive for a half hour didn't count. Falling asleep on your bed for an hour after you'd finished having a nice hot shower didn't count as real sleep; and that was all Dean had got for almost a month.

It was no wonder that Dean looked beat to hell.

Easing himself out from under his brother's dead weight, he watched uneasily as Dean grunted in protest as Sam placed his head loosely back onto the couch, picked up a blanket and covered his elder brother with it.

Dean mumbled something, and drifted back into the land of nod.

A wide smile spread across Sam's face as he studied Dean's peaceful features. It was so good to see Dean sleeping, naturally without the awful aid of booze, or after a hot shower; this was just a calming natural sleep, and it offered Sam more hope than anyone could ever understand.

Dean no longer mentioned going to find dad.

The night after the faithful event at the cliffs, Dean has sat beside him on the sand, their backs against the sea wall, the salty air lulling them both into a comfortable atmosphere. Sam has sat there slumped in the sand with his head resting on Dean's tired shoulders, reassuring his scared elder brother that things would be ok between them.

However that discussion had been almost a week ago, and the whole 'things would be ok' conversation that had also taken place seemed like a life time away.

Dean never mentioned John Winchester anymore, or the idea of finding out where their father had taken off to, at least not right now, and Sam didn't blame him. Dean's mind was drifting into a million of places, and in Sam's opinion he still wasn't back to his normal self.

While Sam, Sam wasn't sure what he wanted. He knew he needed answers, he knew that he missed his dad and wanted to see him. However, right this moment, Dean needed him more, and that decision overrode anything he needed.

Dean hadn't been himself in five weeks, and Sam was seriously worried, mainly because he knew it was all because of the choices he made. The sad thing was that if it came down to those choices again, then Sam would do it all over again. Sam loved his family more than he could ever express; leaving them to die wasn't even an option in his mind.

However, this was different.

Dean sleeping like a baby, tucked up on the sofa under a warm fleece blanket, the lines of stress and worry that had been marring his handsome features seemed to be temporarily stripped back; back to the old Dean.

Sam gently placed a hand on top of his brother's shoulder and then let his hand fall gently away to his side.

Maybe things would get better.

After all, they couldn't get any worse...

**

* * *

****Enjoying ? Hope so. Leave a review if you get a chance and I'll see you all next update…**


	2. Guess Who

**Thanks for all the reviews guys, sorry to those who are having a tough time with leaving replies on the site. I absolutely appreciate you guys emailing and PMing me to say your piece; it's lovely. I love the comments so far and I love everyone's questioning to how the boys will fix their relationship, if it's actually possible. Love people remembering that Papa Winchester is on his way back to the boys and how he'll react to the situation.**

**Ok this is chapter two, 'Guess Who', we're slowly pulling back the layers and joining the dots from the last hunt; we also see a return of an old face, and it may not be one you remember straight off…**

**Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

**Ps- I'm also on the look out for a beta, so if anyone knows of anyone or can recommend one, or volunteer, please let me know.**

**Chapter Two- Guess Who**

Sam slipped silently out of the apartment, and headed onto the main street. The warm sunshine beat down on his face, and he felt a smile rise to his lips. There was something about the Florida sunshine that always put a smile on everyone's face.

And the smile that was filtering through the youngest of the Winchester's radiated out of his body like a beacon.

It had been ages since he'd smiled, and if felt good. It felt natural. Leaving Dean sound asleep, in a natural, non-alcohol filled sleep was a huge achievement. Dean was unaware of how big a break through their little family of two had just made, but the impact wasn't lost on Sam. Dean had slept, through the night, without any aids, without waking up, without trying to think up some stupid excuse to justify why he was still not asleep.

He had actually just slept.

Ok fair go, Dean had interrupted Sam's movie, and had fallen asleep beside Sam pinning him to the sofa, but he wasn't complaining. It was a touching feeling that Dean still cared so much about him, and the fact that Dean was actually willing to try chick flick moments in an attempt to try and fix their situation was remarkable all on its own.

A year ago you wouldn't have caught Dean dead, sitting that close next to Sam on the couch last night, nevermind curled up like a cat on top of him the following morning.

Sam rounded the corner and headed towards the diner that Dean had introduced him to when they had arrived in Clearwater nearly three weeks ago. The food was good and the service was friendly, and for the first time in ages, Sam was actually hungry.

Pushing open the door he chuckled to himself as the door pinged with his entrance. Glancing around the younger Winchester headed towards the counter and picked up a menu, studying the contents as he slipped into a counter seat.

" Morning, son, what can I get you..?" A female voice said as Sam stared up at the blond headed woman, who flashed him a hearty smile.

" Morning.." Sam said with a gentle smile of his own, " Erm, can I just grab two black coffees and two breakfast specials..."

" Sure thing sweetie..." The lady said studying Sam as she picked up the coffee pot in her hand, " Take away, I'll assume..?"

Sam nodded quietly, and reached for a discarded newspaper that sat on the counter top. Straightening the folded paper out, Sam's eyes scanned the front page, and upon finding nothing interesting, begun to flick through the newspaper haphazardly, waiting for his breakfast to arrive.

It was then his hazel eyes spotted something odd.

" That'll be 13.69..." The diner lady said, startling Sam, who had become engrossed in the article. Noticing Sam's reaction, she smiled apologetically and glanced at the article that had drawn Sam into his own world.

She sighed heavily.

" Terrible business that..." She said shaking her head, " Such a good man as well..."

Sam looked at her quizzically, " You knew him..?"

" No..." She said with a shake of her blond hair, " But he was a doctor, and, well, that makes him a good man.."

" Of course it does..." Sam muttered more to himself as he handed her a twenty dollar note and sat studying the man's face that stared at him from the newspaper.

As the blond lady returned his change, she studied Sam's behaviour.

" Did you know him..?" She guessed, " Sounds like you weren't his biggest fan..."

" I never met him.." Sam said quietly as he picked up the breakfast bags, and holding onto the newspaper, left the small town diner.

The name in the article was bugging him.

Andrew Wallis.

Sam was pretty sure he'd never met any doctor called that, but yet the name, it just kept yanking at something within the youngest Winchester.

As he strolled back to the apartment, his mind continuingly re-examining old situations and hunts and hospital visits; Sam just kept drawing a blank.

But yet that name.

There was just something about it.

He knew he'd seen it before, he was positive about that.

And as he approached the beach side apartment, the salty sea air already thick in the atmosphere, the eighty something degree Fahrenheit already working into his body; it was then as he put his foot on the bottom step of his home that it hit him.

It hit him about as hard as a baseball bat to the face.

He had seen that name before.

And he knew exactly where...

* * *

Dean yawned widely and imitating a lazy cat, opened one eye and peered around his surroundings. Cocooned in his warmth, Dean poked his head above his blanket and studied the living room.

Oh, yeah, he'd fallen asleep watching that movie with Sam last night. It was actually a pretty good film, but he wasn't going to admit that to Sam anytime soon.

Speaking of Sam, where was he ?

Sitting up and keeping the blue fleece blanket wrapped around his body, Dean stood up and clicked the kink out of his neck. He still felt sleepy, which was no surprise considering he had weeks of sleep to catch up on. Wondering around the apartment,

Dean scowled at the air conditioning unit which continued to spew freezing air into the beach side apartment.

He had promised Sam he would look at that, and he would, once he had showered and shaved, and suppressed the growling sound that was echoing from his stomach.

Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see it was just before 9am; these days Sam was rarely up before 10am.

Making a face he headed towards his bedroom and proceeded to fish around in his chest of drawers looking for some clean clothes.

Maybe they could go away somewhere, some place that wasn't so cold. Dean made a face, how could anyone ever describe Florida as cold ? Only in their weird little Winchester world would the place they would be staying in be too cold for penguins to survive in.

" Penguins !" Dean suddenly said as he closed the top drawer, " That's right.."

He'd promised Sam that they would head to Sea World to see the animals, after all Sam had gone with him to the carnival and Dean remembered how well that trip had gone.

Shuffling out his bedroom and stifling a yawn, a sharp knock was heard from the front door. Scowling at the wooden door, Dean walked towards it and yanked it open.

" You're lucky I wasn't in the shower..." Dean said, as he faced the person on the other side.

" Now that's a sight I wouldn't have minded seeing..." The blond girl with sapphire blue eyes said with a wicked smile.

Dean's heart jumped straight into his mouth.

" Linda..!?" Dean stuttered as he watched as his latest conquest strolled past him and straight into the apartment.

" Lydia.." The blond corrected as she tossed something at the elder Winchester.

" Of course Lydia..." Dean said patting his head, his brain still trying to figure out how to talk himself out of this situation. " I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.."

" Cute..." Lydia said with a smile as she placed her hands on his denim skirted hips, " You left those behind..."

Dean looked down at his hand and found his missing sock from the night he'd spent with her.

" Thanks.." Dean said awkwardly, his eyes desperately looking for the nearest window he could throw himself from. Dean didn't do relationships, or dating, and especially the awkward after drunken sex talk, " You want a drink or something..?"

" Actually, I was wondering if I could take you to breakfast..." Lydia said flashing Dean her most winning smile, " I mean, it's not like I've seen much of you since, well, you know when..."

" Yeah, right about that..." Dean said scratching his head, " Things just got real hectic around here..."

" Let me guess, your brother..?" Lydia said with a slight tut, " He was the reason you wanted to bail on us that night..."

" Yeah I know..-" Dean said scratching his head. Suddenly he just wanted to run into the bathroom and shut the door and not come out again until the girl he'd nailed about a week ago left his apartment.

" He's not still sick is he..?" Lydia asked as she sat down on the sofa and glanced up at Dean, " You know, cause, well, that wouldn't be cool..."

" He's doing ok.." Dean muttered, as he took in Lydia's reaction, Dean couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but he was convinced that for a second, Lydia looked disappointed at the idea that Sam was ok.

Dean looked at the blond haired girl narrowly.

" Look, Lydia, I was about to jump into the shower..." Dean said in a plain tone.

" Go for it.." Lydia said with a smile, " I'll keep myself entertained until you get back.."

Dean clicked his tongue, his hazel green eyes narrowing in annoyance.

Ok, this girl just wasn't getting the hint.

" Sam's just gone out to get some coffee..." Dean said in a plain tone, " He'll be right back.."

" It's ok, I'm sure Sam won't bite..." Lydia said squarely," Besides, I think I'd like to meet the guy who's been keeping you away from me..."

Dean swallowed and screamed inwardly.

" Ok, look, I've tried to be nice, but seriously, the other night..." Dean said walking over to her, " It was great, and I mean that, it was really great..."

" You liked what I did...?" Lydia whispered, as she slipped off the sofa and stood facing Dean, " All of what I did..?"

" Erm, yeah, sure..." Dean said feeling his cheeks blazing with heat, " You're a real nice girl, but..."

" But nothing.." Lydia said with a determined nod, " You messed things up Dean. If you're about to stand there and tell me that what happened between us was just a one off, well you can just forget it; I don't do one nighters..."

" Oh boy..." Dean muttered as he scratched the back of his head, " I'm sorry you got the wrong end of the stick..."

" Well if you're gonna dump me, the least you can do is buy me friggin breakfast..." Lydia snapped, shooting poisonous looks at Dean.

Before Dean could even think of something to come back with, some snarky words to take the heat out of the situation, the veranda door suddenly opened and a rather frazzled looking Sam emerged from the heat.

Sam Winchester opened his mouth as soon as he set sights on his elder brother, but promptly shut his mouth tightly when he saw the blond standing in his living room.

Dean was pretty sure he's just seen the look of total disgust wash over his little brother's face; but for a change, Sam was wrong. The situation that was sitting in the living room was definitely not what Sam thought it was.

Not by a freaking long shot.

Sam awkwardly looked at Dean and then found his hazel eyes boring into Lydia's back.

" Am I interrupting anything..?" Sam said in a stiff tone, as he stood agitated on the spot.

" Nope, she was just leaving, weren't you..?" Dean said looking at Lydia in a no-nonsense tone.

" I'm not going...-" Lydia started to protest, as Dean hooked her arm and yanked her towards the front door.

" Nice seeing you..." Dean said yanking open the front door and watched as clearly angry Lydia marched over the threshold and stood staring angrily at Dean, " Thanks for the sock.."

" Meet me later..?" Lydia said managing a smile, " I can see it's not your fault you couldn't meet up before, your brother's a bit of a head case..."

" He's fine..." Dean muttered, " Look, I don't know, Lydia..."

" Lunch..." Lydia said turning to leave, " At the diner we met at, I won't take no for an answer, and if you don't show..."

" What time..?" Dean finally said with a heavy sigh, unsure to why he was actually going back on a date with this girl.

" 12 ok, so don't be late..." Lydia said with a grin, " And bring your appetite, cause I'm bringing desert.."

Dean looked at her confused, " Didn't you say the diner..?"

She sent Dean a mischievous smile and walked away. A smirk appeared on Dean's face, which he couldn't hide as she closed the front door and turned to look at Sam.

" Dude, what can I say..?" Dean said with a grin, " When you got it, you got it..."

Dean waited for an answer from Sam, and was surprised when he didn't get one. Instead, he watched as Sam marched into the bathroom.

Waiting to see if Sam would close the door, Dean watched as the door remained open. The rustling and clattering around in the bathroom brought Dean to the doorway.

The sight that greeted him however only fuelled his confusion. His hazel green eyes wide, Dean watched as Sam was pawing through the dustbin in the bathroom and apparently unsatisfied with the outcome, promptly took the entire bin and emptied it all over the bathroom floor.

" Dude..!" Dean said in a startled tone, " What are you doing..?"

Sam remained silent as he continued to scramble through the three weeks worth of garbage in the small bathroom.

" Sam..?" Dean asked as he watched over his little brother who had until then remained completely silent with his task at hand. Dean suddenly realised that Sam wasn't listening, and his actions of digging were growing more and more erratic, his hands now sweeping through the discarded tissues, disposable razors, and deodorant cans.

Dean finally knelt down beside Sam and what he was on closer inspection scared him.

Sam was crying.

" Sam what's happened..? You're scaring me here..." Dean whispered, " Sammy please.."

" Who is he..?" Sam finally whispered, " Tell me who he is..?"

Dean stared in confusion at Sam, and gently pulled his brother to his feet. Although Sam got to his feet, he didn't leave the bathroom. Instead he sat on the edge of the bath staring at Dean who stood awkwardly staring at Sam.

" Who's who..?" Dean asked in a very slow tone. Suddenly the elder Winchester was feeling very worried, his heart hammered around in his chest.

" Andrew Wallis..?" Sam finally asked as he raised his tear stained face and looked at his elder brother, " Who is he Dean..?"

" I don't know what you're talking about.." Dean lied, promptly turning to leave the small bathroom which was suddenly closing in on him.

" I asked you a question..." Sam asked in a small voice, " And I'm only going to ask you one more time Dean, and you better think, you better think long and hard before you give me this answer..."

" Sam.." Dean said in a desperate tone.

" Who, is, Andrew Wallis..!?" Sam yelled at his elder brother, his voice bouncing off the tiles.

" Sam..." Dean whispered his voice dropping so low, Dean barely heard it himself, " Please don't do this..."

" Do you know him..? Dean, do you know him..!?" Sam yelled at Dean.

Dean looked into Sam's face and was surprised when he didn't see anger; his heart sank like a brick when he saw that instead of anger, was fear.

" You need to calm down..." Dean said simply, " You have to, you hear me, you have to.."

" You promised me Dean..." Sam whispered as he got up from the bath and walked out the small room and into the living room. Dean watched as Sam disappeared into his bedroom and returned seconds later with a small yellow tablet bottle in his hand.

Dean's heart plunged to the floor. He suddenly wanted to run back into the bathroom and shut the door and never come out.

" You promised me..." Sam said in a small voice as he sunk onto the sofa. " You sat there and you promised me that we were ok, that we were equals, that you weren't lying to me..."

" Sammy, it's not like that..." Dean quickly said as he realised frantically that the situation was suddenly deteriorating faster than he had ever imagined. He stooped down in front of Sam, resisting the urge to rip the pill bottle from his hand and throw them else where.

" I fell for it, I fell for everything you said to me, I fell for your lies, I believed them, stupid me, believed you..." Sam whispered, " You don't know who Wallis is huh..? Then why is his name on my medication..?"

Dean stared at Sam his head shaking.

" You lied to me Dean, about everything..." Sam whispered as his voice chocked as he looked at his elder brother, " From the moment I have woke up from the crash all you've done is lie to me, and I want to know why ? I need to know why..?"

" Sammy, I was trying to protect you, trying to keep you safe, all I have ever done is try and keep you safe..." Dean explained, " Wallis, god, I don't know, but Wallis isn't a good guy..."

" He's a doctor..?" Sam managed to choke out, " And he was obviously, my, doctor, so why wasn't he a good guy...?"

Dean stared slowly up at Sam as he sunk onto the opposite sofa to his younger brother.

" All I wanted to do was grab a shower..." Dean muttered to himself, " And in half an hour all this happens...!"

" Dean, this isn't funny..." Sam snapped as he angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, " Not at all.."

" Look, you just calm down, take some deep breaths and steady those nerves of yours before you hyperventilate on me and pass out..." Dean said flippantly, " I'm gonna go and grab a shower and when I come out we'll talk..."

" You mean, you're going in there to buy yourself some thinking time, so you can dream up more lies to tell me, isn't that more accurate..?" Sam bitterly snapped.

" Actually, I just want to brush my teeth..." Dean kidded as he shot Sam a smile which was acrimoniously thrown back at him. " Oh come on Sammy, you're seriously over reacting..."

" Over reacting..?" Sam shouted, " You think this is a joke..?"

" Not really, look, I don't see what the big deal is..?" Dean said in a plain tone as he got to his feet and headed towards the bathroom, " He was someone who was involved with both of us back at the hospital, the guy could have worked on his bed side manner, and frankly I'd have liked to kick the guys ass in; but seriously, nothing to talk about, and certainly nothing to get you this worked up. You're like a deranged hen..."

Sam's mouth dropped open, but the hurt he felt just drained him of what he was about to angrily bark back.

" This conversation isn't over yet Dean..." Sam said shaking his head, " If he really isn't worth this much pain and hassle, then why on earth is a doctor I left back north, way back north, now dead in the same area I am staying in...?"

Dean paused on his way to the bathroom and turned and looked at Sam.

" Wallis is dead..?" Dean asked in a stunned tone.

Sam nodded and then looked up at his elder brother.

" Yeah, he's dead. Now you tell me why this isn't weird Dean..." Sam said in a low voice, " Cause this, this feels weird, and I don't like it; I don't like it at all..."

Dean felt the colour drain away from his face.

Sam was right on one thing.

This was weird, very weird and weird was just something that never quite sat right with Dean Winchester.

And this was defiantly one of those times...

* * *

**Ooohhh, so Wallis is dead. Why is he dead, who killed him..? You don't possibly think that Dean is lying to Sam and that he did it..? No of course not, right..? Dean wouldn't do that….well, at least I don't think he would- but what does Sam think..? The return of Lydia, I think nothing good can come of this…..and Sammy, poor kid doesn't know who to trust anymore, and Dean, just please, let the boy brush his teeth and have his god damn shower…..**

**Until next time ! If you get a chance, I'd appreciate hearing your comments and views. See you all in a week….**


	3. Home Truths

**Thank you for all your reviews. Sorry about the late update, life is a little hectic around here at the moment, the joys of thesis world.**

**Big hugs to Carol.**

**Without further babble, here's 'Home Truths'….**

Chapter Three- Home Truths

Dean trotted out of the shower to find Sam gone from the living room. Hanging his towel to dry on the back of his bedroom door, Dean headed out onto the deck and found Sam sitting in one of the chairs, a bottle of whiskey open and a glass in his hand.

Dean's eyebrows rose curiously as he eyed the time.

11.00am

A little early to be hitting good old Jack and his buddies, but from the far away look on Sam's face, it was obvious that time wasn't a factor when Sam had cracked open the bottle.

Dean took a seat in the chair beside Sam's and picked up the bottle and looked at Sam. At least a quarter of the whiskey was gone.

"Exactly how long was I in that shower?" Dean said with a grin, "Cause, well, Sammy, we need to talk about this little scenario."

"You lied to me..." Sam said in a drained voice as he downed what remained in his glass and yanked the bottle from Dean's startled hands.

Dean watched as Sam clumsily refilled his glass, once finished the elder Winchester picked up the bottle and stood up.

"Ok, think it's time I introduced you to Mr. black coffee." Dean said with a grin as he looked down at Sam's brown head.

"I'm scared..." Sam whispered as he took another shaky sip of the whiskey.

Dean swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

"You don't have to be scared Sammy, you got nothing to be scared about, I promise you..."

Sam's hazel eyes bored into Dean's face and with a heavy sigh, Dean sank back into his chair.

They sat in silence, both of them staring out at the sea.

"Was any of it true?" Sam finally whispered as he suddenly wished that he still had the bottle of whiskey to hand.

"Was any of what true?" Dean asked as he watched as Sam swallowed the remains of his glass.

"This…" Sam said clumsily spreading his arms out wide, almost knocking Dean in the face. "Why we're here, at least the reasons you told me we were here"

Dean clicked his tongue and studied Sam's face.

"You know something, Sammy, and I doubt you'll believe it, but I never lied to you." Dean said in a small voice, as he watched as Sam's furious eyes swung to look at him.

"You've got some freaking nerve saying that, Dean." Sam muttered as he noisily clambered to his feet and headed back inside to the apartment.

Dean promptly followed.

"It's true, I never did lie to you." Dean said, leaving the veranda door open as he stood in the entrance allowing the sunshine to keep his back warm in the freezing living room. "I just tried to protect you by not telling you everything."

Sam sat quietly on the sofa and looked up at Dean, his expression soft and almost child-like. He looked hurt and very confused and Dean felt for him; he didn't like knowing that it was his actions that were causing Sam to feel like this.

"I never meant to hurt you, but I get that I have and I am sorry for that." Dean admitted, "Sammy, ok?"

"Wallis was my doctor?" Sam whispered as he looked at Dean.

Sighing, Dean finally came and sat down on the opposite sofa.

"No..." Dean said with a shake of his head, "He was my doctor."

Sam looked at him funnily, fresh confusion rife on his face.

"Look, Sam, it was a really horrible time." Dean explained, "All I remembered was the last time I was awake I had a family, I had you and dad, and as strange a world as we lived in, we were a family..."

"I get that..." Sam said with a nod, but Dean promptly cut him off.

"No, I don't think you do." Dean said quickly, "When I woke up, I knew nothing, I didn't remember the accident, or what had happened to you or dad. I went to sleep knowing that I had a family, I woke up and found that my dad was gone god knows where, and the staff was telling me my little brother probably wouldn't pull through."

Sam sighed out loud and massaged his temples.

"I'm sorry." Sam whispered. He didn't know why he was apologising but he felt like he needed to.

"They told me that you were the one who had saved dad and me, and then they told me that dad had taken off." Dean explained as he agitatedly got to his feet and started to pace around the living room.

"Where does Wallis fit in? I mean you said he was your doctor, yet it's his name on my medication." Sam said in confusion.

Dean stared up at the ceiling and took in a very shaky breath.

"When you died..." Dean said in a low voice, the words feeling foreign, dark and evil, "it wasn't just you and me in that room, you flat lined and..."

"And?" Sam said looking up at him, "Dean?"

"And I panicked." Dean admitted, feeling tears burn in his eyes at the horrible memory, "Your spirit came to me, told me to take care, you were gonna move on and leave me."

"Oh god Dean." Sam said as he flopped back on the sofa, guilt washing over him.

"Dr. Kessin, he was your doctor, and the moment you appeared to me as a spirit, I ran out the door, I panicked Sammy..." Dean admitted in a choked tone as he turned to face his brother, "I just ran outside screaming for help and Dr. Kessin came and he tried, I watched him try, I watched them all try and save you..."

"But I died." Sam whispered, his hand subconsciously moving over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

Dean nodded at Sam's answer.

"It's a blur after that..." Dean whispered as he sat back down on the sofa and took in a ragged breath, "but I tell you something, when you came back, oh boy you've never heard of coming quietly have you?"

"What happened?" Sam asked in a barely audible voice.

"The full works with added extras..." Dean nodded, remembering, "Flickering lights, the equipment in the room coming to life, cutting out, scaring the crap out of all the nursing staff and, of course, your doctor..."

"And I came back?" Sam said in a low tone.

"Yup." Dean said with a nod, "I didn't care that everyone was watching and freaking out."

"I came back to life in front of an audience?" Sam said in horror, "Oh no..."

"Sammy, you were dead for over forty minutes, I was clinging onto you 'cause they wanted to take you away from me..." Dean said, his voice clearly scared as he spoke. "They wanted to put you in the morgue."

"Do you remember anything else?" Sam asked slowly sitting forward.

"That there was some sort of fight..." Dean said, his eyes closed as he tried to recall the scenario as best as he could, "One of the nurses in the room collapsed seconds before the whole scene took place, and things were flying around the room..."

Sam looked horrified.

"Something brought me back?" Sam whispered, his voice clearly sickened.

"That would be my guess." Dean said with a nod as he ran his hands roughly over his face. "Anyway, Dr Wallis, he found out, and well, he ordered all these tests to be done on you, all these experiments, I mean Sammy, he called in specialists to turn you into some sort of lab rat..."

"This just gets better and better." Sam muttered as he covered his face with a sofa cushion.

"He didn't care how he did it, you were just his meal ticket to the world of the rich and famous." Dean said in a furious tone. "I couldn't just stand back and do nothing..."

Sam suddenly sat up straight on the sofa, horror clear on his face.

"Oh my god, Dean, please, please tell me you had nothing to do with his death," Sam begged as he scrambled to his feet and knelt down in front of Dean, "Please..."

"I didn't kill him." Dean said with a positive nod, "But god I felt like it..."

"So he followed us from the hospital?" Sam said, looking up at Dean as he sat down on the floor. "That is seriously scary..."

"And now he'd dead." Dean said with a worried voice. "Sounds a bit coincidental."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking." Sam said, looking at Dean with those innocent hazel eyes. "Those tablets you were slipping me..."

Dean instantly scrambled from his seat to pace, the nausea almost immediate as acid churned around in his stomach.

Sam, however, remained unaware of Dean's sudden movements; the younger boy was trapped in his own thoughts.

"Wallis was the one who had prescribed them." Sam said as he looked at his elder brother for help. "This whole time, I was just assuming that it was the demon we killed that had done something to those tablets, that was the reason why I was ill; he was making you give them to me."

Sam stared at Dean's frozen face, a quizzical look appearing on his own.

"Hello, Dean?" Sam called out in a louder voice, "Doone?!"

"Huh?" Dean said, finally looking at Sam. "Sorry, you say something?"

"What if those tablets had nothing to do with the red-eyed bastard you wasted, what if those drugs were simply just down to Wallis?" Sam suggested as he looked at Dean's awkward movements. "Dude, are you ok?"

Dean finally sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair.

"Actually no, there's something else you should know." Dean admitted as he came and sat back down on the sofa. "How much do you remember of the other night, the night when you were ill and I took you to the hospital?"

Sam thought about the question for a second and then made a face.

"Not a lot, I just remember feeling like I was, well, gonna die." Sam admitted, "And then I came round in the car and you were there, and then you weren't, and then I woke up again and we were here..." Sam said in a confused tone.

Dean sucked in a shaky breath.

"I never discharged you from the hospital back north." Dean admitted, "I just kind of well…"

"Grabbed me and took off to that weird motel." Sam said as he studied Dean's taut face.

"Yeah, pretty much." Dean said with a nod. "I was scared, I knew you needed to see a doctor, I mean you kept asking to go see one and I kept saying no..."

"Well now that makes perfect sense." Sam muttered, "What I don't get is what this has to do with Wallis…"

"That night I took you to the local hospital, I'd convinced myself that this was the right thing to do. I don't know why, but it suddenly felt right." Dean explained, "At the time, that's what I thought it meant..."

"But now?" Sam asked curiously, "Now what do you think?"

"Now I'm not so sure." Dean admitted, "The more I think about it, I was out of control, I barely remember anything of that whole night."

"What do you remember?" Sam asked gently as he saw the strain on Dean's face, "Take your time.

"Just being scared." Dean finally admitted, "I was so dead set against going anywhere near the hospital and then suddenly it felt totally normal..."

"The demon, it was manipulating you, Dean." Sam explained softly, "It's not your fault, none of this is your fault."

"But that's just it, Sammy." Dean said his hazel green eyes finally meeting his younger brothers, "I don't remember anything at all about what happened in that hospital..."

"But..." Sam whispered, already sensing one was coming.

"God Sam, I'm not sure what to think. I mean I could have been seeing things." Dean whispered as he looked worriedly at Sam. "But I could have sworn that Wallis was there in the parking lot, and..."

"And...?" Sam said in an urgent tone as he sat forward on the sofa.

"And, I could have sworn I saw his eyes were..." Dean said, shaking his head and closing his eyes as if trying to clear his mind and re-focus his thoughts, back to that night, back to that moment. "I could have sworn his eyes glowed red, and his voice..."

"His voice, Dean, what about his voice?" Sam asked, again in an urgent tone. It was taking every ounce of strength inside of Sam not to grab Dean and shake the words out of him.

"It sounded just like that voice that was in my head." Dean finally said as he sighed heavily and sank back into the sofa.

Sam studied Dean's body language.

His elder brother looked exhausted.

"You know, we never did figure out what that red-eyed demon wanted." Sam said with a bitter nod. "After all, it's eyes were a specific-colour, what if he has some sort of connection to the yellow-eyed demon?"

"His method of killing is different, which is another thing I don't get," Dean said, sitting up again and looking over at Sam. "He had so many opportunities to kill us both, and he never did."

"What I don't understand is that how come I could see the demon as a demon, but I never saw him in Wallis, in fact, I never met Wallis." Sam said, confusion on his face as he sighed loudly. "God, this is doing my head in!"

"Join the club." Dean muttered as he flopped back against the sofa, his eyes scanning the room, "Where did I put that bottle?"

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his alcohol fuelled nerves.

"So how much would you bet that the red-eyed demon and Wallis were working together?" Sam asked his elder brother.

"Right now, nothing would surprise me." Dean admitted, as he suddenly sat up and reached into his pocket and yanked out his ringing phone.

Sam scowled at the interruption; he was finally getting somewhere with Dean and now he knew the moment was gone.

Dean suddenly shot Sam a look, clambered to his feet and disappeared into his room, it was only after he closed the door that he finally answered it.

"Real smooth, Dean." Sam muttered as he stifled a yawn and stretched out on the sofa.

He had a lot to ponder and a lot of information to process.

Stifling another yawn, Sam momentarily thought about the breakfast that sat in the kitchen waiting to be eaten. Suddenly, he didn't seem to have an appetite, his brain just kept churning away at the information that had been spewed out at him.

Some of it the younger Winchester wasn't quite ready to delve further into.

Like his death.

Sam wasn't sure what to make of the idea that he'd died; after all, exactly how was he supposed to feel?

But, for now, there were much more important things to worry about.

Like the dead doctor that seemed to have been following him around the country.

Sam sat up and took in a deep breath trying to steady the spinning in his head. That alcohol had gone straight to his head; after all, only Sammy would think of hitting the bottle on a completely empty stomach.

Dean shuffling out of his room made Sam grudgingly open his eyes. Dean had his poker face on, which instantly made Sam mad.

From the look on Dean's face, it was obvious to Sam that he wasn't exactly hiding his annoyance from his big brother.

"Look, Sammy, I got to go out..." Dean said, sitting down in front of Sam on the coffee table. "I know it's lousy, shitty, timing, but man, I got to go."

"Anything to do with that blond that was in here?" Sam said with a click of his tongue, no longer looking at Dean.

Instead, Dean watched as Sam sank further into the sofa, let his head hang off the back and closed his eyes.

"Kind of, it's, well, it's complicated." Dean muttered already feeling his cheeks burning red. "Look, dude, I won't be long."

"Does it look like I care?" Sam mumbled, his eyes still closed. "Dean, do what you want, you always do anyway."

"Sam, that's not fair." Dean said in a steady voice, "Look, I get that you're pissed at me, and that's fine, I get that, and I deserve it."

"Woohoo." Sam muttered sarcastically, still refusing to look at Dean.

"I don't know what Wallis was up to, or if, in fact he was up to anything..." Dean admitted, "But something isn't right there, and you know it too."

"Where are you meeting her?" Sam asked pointedly.

"The diner near the beach," Dean said, checking his watch again. "I'm actually nearly an hour late..."

"Don't let me hold you up." Sam muttered, as he sat up straight and hauled his long body to its feet. He swayed dangerously and Dean grabbed his arm to keep him upright.

"Sam…" Dean said in an appealing tone as he watched as Sam staggered off towards his room. "Just sleep it off. I'll bring you back some lunch."

"How ironic, considering breakfast is still sitting on the counter." Sam said, leaning against the doorframe. "Just go."

"Is there anything in particular you want for lunch?" Dean asked, hoping Sam would at least soften before he left.

Sam's hazel eyes finally rose to meet his.

"I don't want anything from you." Sam muttered, and with that, the younger Winchester closed his bed room door.

Dean groaned out loud as he stared at the closed door.

It didn't look like much, but Sam closing that door on him just echoed to the elder Winchester that maybe, just maybe, he'd stepped too far over that line, and now there was no way back.

Maybe, just maybe, Sam had actually closed that door not only to his room.

But to Sam himself

* * *

**Still enjoying? I hope so. The pace starts to pick up from now on as the 'actual' story begins. Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy my little rambles. If you get a chance please leave a review. Until next time cool cats xxx**


	4. Jigsaw Bits

**Sorry for the delay guys, my deadline is fast approaching for my thesis and there is way too much evil work to do. Thank you all so much for the reviews you guys sent me, it's always great seeing the names I recognise and a really energy boost in seeing new ones. You guys rock and thanks for all your support and kind words.**

**Like I promised in the last chapter, this is where the good stuff kicks in; so I hope you guys aren't disappointed….**

**If you get a chance, please leave a review, it's a great boost to keep going knowing that people are actually reading it.**

**Hugs to Carol xxx**

**Chapter Four-Jigsaw Bits**

"I have to be honest," Lydia said as she forked her linguini into her mouth, and sent Dean her best seductive smile, "I didn't think you'd show."

Dean Winchester however, while seated at the table in the posh restaurant, was actually not there.

Well, not mentally, at least.

"Dean?" Lydia called, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied the guy in front of her, "Dean!" She barked.

Dean finally snapped out of his daze and looked at her, his lasagne untouched in front of him.

"You ok?" Lydia asked as she took a sip of her red wine and sent Dean another look.

"Just didn't think I'd be spending my lunch in this fancy joint." Dean muttered as he studied the other clientele, who he was convinced were staring at him, "If I'd known, I'd at least have worn a clean shirt."

Lydia smiled playfully.

"I like the fact that you're wearing a t-shirt and dirty jeans," Lydia said with a grin, "feels like we're breaking some sort of holy code of dressing."

"So how comes I'm the only one who came ill dressed?" Dean muttered as he stared at his glass of untouched red wine; god what he'd do right now for a cheese burger and a bottle of beer!

"Oh don't fret," Lydia said, "it's good to break the rules and you, Dean Lawson, strike me as someone who enjoys breaking the rules."

Dean chuckled dryly, "Lydia, look, I got to be honest with you. This, this whole thing right here, this isn't me."

"No kidding," Lydia said with a smirk, "I knew it would piss you off to bring you to a fancy place like this."

Dean's hazel green eyes narrowed, "And why would you do that?"

"To piss you off, why else; or were you not listening?" Lydia said with a nod as she tipped her glass at Dean playfully, "Mission accomplished."

"Alright, you got me there," Dean admitted with a dry chuckle. "So you're ok with this whole thing? I'm just not looking for a relationship."

"Oh I get it perfectly, just some fun, huh?" Lydia said with a devious smile.

Dean nodded and finally picked up his wine glass and took a sip.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," Lydia said with an alluring smile. "Don't you go anywhere."

Dean nodded and took a gulp of his wine as he watched as Lydia disappeared to the bathroom.

A smile spontaneously appeared on his handsome face.

Looked like Lydia was gonna play ball and be ok about them not doing the whole relationship thing.

That alone was worth a glass of red wine; even if the taste was threatening to choke him.

Lydia was a nice girl though, something about her just appealed to him. She was different, unique, very quick on the ball, and most importantly…Dean found her irresistible...

* * *

Lydia pressed the powder puff to her nose as she stood staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She was happy with the body she had.

It was prettier than the last one anyway.

Everything was slowly going to plan.

The moron outside drinking red wine was convinced that everything was ok, that all he had to worry about was the petty little argument he had with his little freak of a brother.

Little did he know that that was just the beginning.

The older moron was so wrapped up in his own superficial world that he wouldn't even notice what was happening until it was too late.

And that's when they would strike.

And revenge would be complete.

Lydia smiled at her reflection and, for just a second, allowed her true colors to shine through.

Her eyes glowed orange, a burnt, terracotta color shimmered back at her in the mirror.

A smile danced on her face.

This was going to be so much fun.

There was no way in hell they could lose; after all, they held every single ace.

A laugh escaped her mouth as she replaced her compact into her handbag.

The Winchesters would never see this coming.

Not even if their lives depended on it, and that was what was ironic, because their pathetic lives did depend on it.

This was gonna be so much fun, so much friggin fun...

* * *

Sam Winchester's hazel eyes flickered open, and he stretched his arms and legs out on his bed resembling a lazy cat.

His eyes slowly focused on the clock on his night stand.

It was just after 3pm.

Lying still and trying to ignore the fact that his tongue felt like it was housing filthy carpet, the younger of the two Winchesters listened for any movement in the apartment.

Naturally, the younger boy heard nothing.

So much for Dean's lunch date not taking up his entire friggin afternoon.

It was then that Sam realised that his little cat nap hadn't done much to ease the grimy mood he'd fallen asleep in. In fact, he was beginning to realise that the alcohol had actually masked how angry he was really feeling.

Only Dean would have the audacity to go out with a woman when things between them at this very point in time couldn't be any worse. After all, it wasn't every day that you found out that your brother was an even bigger liar than you'd given him credit for earlier.

And all the time, each and every time Dean would simply state that he was trying to protect Sam.

Sam sat up on his bed and allowed a moment for his head to catch up with the speed of his movement.

Did Sam look like he needed protecting?

"He's the one who got himself possessed by a freaking demon and tried to kill me in the process," Sam mumbled to himself as he stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room, heading for the bathroom.

Sam paused and stared at the veranda door quizzically.

It was open.

Making a confused face, Sam's eyes slowly scanned the apartment, trying to see if anyone was in the beach side home.

Walking into the kitchen, Sam picked up the bread knife and silently explored the rest of the apartment, going through all the rooms in turn.

After ten minutes, the younger Winchester found himself standing again in the living area, knife at the ready staring at the still open door.

"Great," Sam muttered, as he placed the knife on the coffee table, marched over to the veranda door and yanked it closed again, making sure to actually put the lock on.

Angrily, Sam headed into the bathroom.

Looked like Dean was in such a freaking hurry to get to that stupid girl that he'd just walked out and left the door open.

Stupid girl.

Stupid Dean.

Stupid, stupid Dean.

Picking up his toothbrush and applying some toothpaste, Sam brushed his teeth, his body beginning to seethe with anger regarding Dean.

_He's pissed at me cause I'm hurt by his lies; the stupid idiot drugs me and then tries to kill me, and he's pissed at me because I'm mad at him and it's all because he's been lying to me._

Sam stared at his reflection, his eyes were blood-shot and his anger soon wavered for a second as misery and hurt crashed through him.

_I risked my life to save him and dad, and the stupid thing is, that I would do it all again. Dean doesn't get what he's done. He thinks it was ok to lie to me about dad, and I wish dad was here, I want to see dad._

It was then Sam noticed the tears burning in his eyes.

Blinking them away angrily, he hurriedly wiped the stray ones that fell from his eyes.

His father had disowned him, plain and simple.

Then there was the whole thing with Wallis.

What was the connection between the dead doctor and, of course, the strange red-eyed demon that wreaked so much havoc in their lives?

Washing his face with warm water, Sam snapped the taps off and headed out of the bathroom.

It was time that Sam did what he was best known for…research.

* * *

John Winchester zipped his duffle bag closed and glanced one final time around the large guest bedroom he'd been calling home for the last month.

He was gonna miss this place.

The safety, the security, the fact that he knew he could get a decent night's sleep without fear of evil getting in through the window.

Sitting on the bed, he found a smile creeping onto his face.

That's why John Winchester had every intention on coming back to New York, to return to this home.

To returning to this family.

First things first though; John needed to go and collect his own family.

John already knew where to find them in Clearwater and then he would bring Dean and Sam here. A place that they could be safe, free from the shackles of hunting. A real chance for the boys to actually recuperate. A chance for Sam to get well again and a chance for Dean to relax and remove some of the pressure from his eldest boy's shoulders.

John stood up from the bed and sucked in a breath as he went to pick up his bag…he found his hand hovering over it.

The eldest Winchester couldn't hide it any longer; he was nervous. It was one thing to take off and leave Dean alone while he went after the yellow eyed demon by himself; but to walk away while your children are in the hospital, while one of them was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he watched the other die.

John shook the image from his head like a bad dream.

The image of Sam dying, lying lifeless on the bed.

John shuddered physically.

The image of Dean bordering some sort of psychotic breakdown as his brother lay dead in front of him.

It still made John's blood run cold; the two images were jammed together in his head like a lousy cable movie that was constantly stuck on repeat.

It was the _guilt_ that kept replaying it in his head.

As much as the father of two tried to justify what he'd done, walking away from his boys at that point in time was the right thing to do had stopped making any sense to him pretty much an hour after he'd left the hospital.

There _was_ no justification to what he'd done.

John knew he should have never walked away from that hospital and left those boys to fend for themselves.

What damaged the situation further, was when he eventually met up with his sons again, he would have to pretend to know nothing regarding what had happened to Sam.

He'd have to lie to both of them.

Of course lying to his boys wasn't something John wasn't used to doing, but this, this was a whole new level for him.

A very low level that wasn't sitting very well in the pit of his stomach.

John remembered the times he'd simply sit there for hours staring at his phone…wanting nothing more than to just call them and hear their voices. Just to hear Sam pick an argument as to why he'd taken off again, to hear Dean in the background trying to smooth things out.

Instead, now he would have to wait and see if the boys would ever tell him about Sam's death.

He sighed heavily and snatched the bag into his hands.

It was Sam dying and coming back to them that lit a rocket under the father in the first place. It was the sole reason why John had descended on this household and finally asked for help.

The family hadn't turned him away, even though he and his kind deserved nothing less than a slap in the face and the door closed firmly on him.

Of course, what was helping his cause ever so slightly, was that besides the father, the children had no idea who he was, who he _really_ was, or perhaps more importantly, _what_ he really was.

To Alex and Nic, he was just an old friend of their daddy's.

For John, these two boys held the key to killing the yellow-eyed demon and, perhaps more importantly, saving his family.

Suddenly, the door snapped open, and standing there was the eldest of the two boys…who seemed in a hurry.

"It's surfaced again," Alex said, his face smudged with dirt and dust, "I figured you might want to come along and see what we actually do with one of these sons-of-bitches when we actually get our hands on one."

John released his grip on the bag and watched as it dropped back onto the bed.

"Sure thing," John said with an enthusiastic nod, "Let me just grab my gun from the truck."

"Sure, if you want to piss him off, go grab it," Alex said, rolling his eyes. The dark haired boy was about to turn and leave when his eyes noticed the bag on the bed was larger than usual.

"You going somewhere?" Alex asked in a curious tone as his eyes scanned the guest bedroom in his home.

"No," John said, quickly snatching his keys from the dresser, his eyes casually wondering to his packed bag. "Oh that. I was just gonna do a load of laundry."

With that, John headed out of the room leaving Alex still in the doorway staring at the newly appointed 'laundry bag'.

Alex shook his head.

He had no idea exactly who John Winchester was trying to kid, but it definitely wasn't him.

Alex Vetorio wasn't buying his act.

Not one little bit.

* * *

Sam sat drumming his fingers on the table, watching as once again the internet search he'd enlisted returned nothing that was helpful to him.

This situation, as Dean would put it, was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles.

Sighing out loud, Sam pulled the screen down onto the laptop, no longer wanting to stare at the screen which seemed to be taunting his inability to find anything useful.

Instead, the younger Winchester reached for a pen and pad. It was time for another angle.

_Stop concentrating on what I don't know, and start analysing what I do know. _Sam thought as he pulled the lid off the pen and sat staring at the blank pad.

Sam started at the beginning.

Well, at least as far back as he could remember. Dean would have to fill in the blanks when he returned, assuming of course, his elder brother wouldn't lie about anything this time round.

And, of course, Dean would actually need to come home.

Sam made a face and looked down at his watch.

Almost 5pm.

Exactly how long was this lunch date? Wait, Sam really didn't want the answer to that. The mental images on an alcohol corrupted stomach weren't the best idea.

Chewing his bottom lip, Sam began to jot down the random information that popped into his slightly fuzzy brain.

After a while, he read the list over and his facial expression grew more puzzled.

"Drugging me, red-eyed spirit, dead doctor, coming back from dead," Sam made a face as and tossed the pad onto the table. "Yup, earth shattering discovery there, Sam."

Annoyed with his lack of information, Sam abruptly got up from the table and stalked around the living room.

He didn't like the way he was feeling. He was just too agitated, too worked up, too…well, angry.

Sam was just _so_ angry with Dean!

"Why did he lie to me?" Sam muttered in sad frustration as he crumpled into the sofa, "Why did he do this?"

After everything they'd been through, after everything Sam had forgiven him for, and shown no anger at the whole drugging situation.

"That's not Dean's fault, he couldn't help it," Sam muttered as he curled himself within the soft cushions of the sofa.

"**He could have tried to fight it, but he didn't, Sam. You have every right to be angry. You deserve this right. Dean always expects you to just be ok with everything he ever does."**

Sam suddenly sat up.

Who the hell had said that?

"**Dean lied about your father, he drugged you so you were incapable of doing anything to help yourself. Dean won't allow you to be angry, he thinks you've got no right, that you're over reacting. But, you're not Sammy you're not."**

Sam scrambled to his feet, his hazel eyes wildly sweeping the apartment.

"Hello? Who's in here?" Sam called out loudly.

"**He knows, he knows how important it is to you to find that red-eyed spirit, but did he listen? Does he care? No, of course not, Dean put his own feelings and his own thoughts ahead of yours."**

Sam clamped a hand over his ears. He didn't know where this voice was coming from, but he knew he had to stop listening; he had to stop listening right now.

His bare feet were already moving towards Dean's bedroom. He knew something was in here with him; all Sam had to do was find it. Grudgingly, Sam removed his hands from his ears as he yanked open his brother's top drawer and searched amongst the clothes for what he wanted.

His hands finally located it.

The EMF meter.

"**He left you to get himself laid by some blonde. How does that make you feel Sam? To know that your brother sold you out for a quickie with some ditzy girl. He thinks that little of you and what you want; he thinks that you will just accept anything he does, and you know what Sam, you do. You just sit back and let Dean do anything he wants."**

Sam made a face at that last statement. He couldn't really argue with it, the voice had a friggin' good point.

Snapping the EMF on, Sam swept the place slowly, starting with the living room and methodically going through every part of their home.

"**You have every right to be angry Sam. After everything Dean's done to you. ****He p****ulled you out of ****the ****hospital when you were so ill you couldn't even function."**

"He was trying to save me from Wallis," Sam found himself answering.

It was only seconds later that he realised he was actually answering the voice.

"Ok, I've seriously got to stop talking to myself here," Sam muttered as he looked down at the EFM meter. "Wait, I'm still doing it, shut up Sam!"

"**Dean wasn't trying to save you Sam, he was saving himself. Dean's so scared of being alone that he'd rather drag you around with him than let you go in peace. After all, that's the only reason you're still alive Sam; Dean wouldn't let you go."**

Sam froze at that last comment.

"**Dean was the one who stopped you from moving on Sam, Dean was the one who kept you here. He's the one you should be angry with. Dean is the one to blame."**

Sam stared down at the EMF and could barely believe what was registering on the machine.

Nothing.

Sam sank onto the sofa…confused and suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

According to this machine, there was nothing in the apartment with him.

Nothing at all...

* * *

**And so the plot thickens so they say…….hope you're enjoying it and fingers crossed that I stay on top of my work load, the next update should be next week. Thanks again for reading and if you get a chance please leave a review…**


	5. Deja Vu

**I know, I suck with the updates at the moment. Life was just too crazy and I couldn't get the time to do anything, but things are quietening down now, so hopefully I'm back with this now. Thanks to those who left a review, it's all the payment I get for sitting here and trying to write this thing, so thanks to those who are keeping my hopes up. I do hope you are still enjoying it.**

**Thanks to Carol as always.**

**On with chapter five, where some old familiar signs pay a visit to our boys….**

**Chapter Five-Deja Vu**

Dean stared in disgust at his phone and in frustration tossed it on the bed he was sitting on.

"He's still not answering, why's he not answering?" Dean muttered as his hands reached again for his phone.

Lydia sighed and rolled onto her back, pulling the sheet up over her naked body. She gave Dean a dubious look.

"Maybe he's asleep, I mean after what you told me he did this morning, the kid's probably got the hang over from hell." Lydia said with a wave of her hand, gracefully dismissing the conversation, "He's probably still sleeping it off. So quit worrying about him and come back to bed."

Dean didn't answer; instead he stared at his phone which simply stated that he was calling Sam. No matter how much he willed his younger brother to pick up the phone, he simply didn't.

The elder Winchester couldn't shake the feeling of dread that was descending on him. This whole situation was all too familiar. Being here with Lydia in her bed, Sam being elsewhere, and then returning home and finding that his younger brother was bleeding to death because he'd been stabbed.

Dean made a face; that reminded him, they'd still not figured out how that had happened, or perhaps more worryingly, how the huge stab wound had vanished from Sam's side days later. Dean was never to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when the gift revolved around his younger brother, so at the time, the older brother hadn't been that interested to what had healed Sam.

Now suddenly that was all he could think about.

And this entire situation had triggered it.

In fact, if Dean was brutally honest, he had no real memory of how on earth he had ended up back in Lydia's house. He remembered the restaurant and then her suggesting that they go back to her place for desert, and then, well, the then was pretty obvious as Dean surveyed their strewn clothes all over the bedroom.

Dean sighed at his stupidity as he reached for his pants.

This was getting insane, every time he was around Lydia; he was unable to say no. Dean always lost his rational thinking and found himself just giving in.

He caught Lydia scowling at him.

"I have too..." Dean muttered tightly as he yanked his jeans on, "I shouldn't have stayed anyway."

" Of course you should have, and you should do it again..." Lydia said as she tenderly touched his back as he sat down and pulled his socks on, "You don't have to worry about Sam, he's a big boy and more than able to take care of himself."

"It's not really the point..." Dean explained, "We kind of parted on an argument and I hate it when we do that."

"So, what? You're gonna head home now and make nice with him? Give me a break Dean, what are you, ten?" Lydia teased as she rolled onto her back and stretched her hands out over the bed, "Why don't you just kick back and have some fun. Shed some of those responsibilities, all those burdens Dean."

Dean studied her for a moment longer, his sneaker held in his hand.

There was something about this girl, something irresistible. Something that always made Dean want to give in.

God he wanted to. God he just wanted to shed his clothes and crawl right back into that bed with her and shut out the rest of the world.

But he couldn't.

Sam wasn't answering his phone and even when they were pissed to hell with each other, they knew that checking in with one another, even if it was just to bitch the other out, was a done deal in their relationship.

Sam knew and understood the rules, and Dean was sure that he wouldn't purposely ignore his calls. Besides, when had Sam ever ignored the opportunity to have an argument with someone? The boy was born with the word stubborn stamped across his forehead and argumentative just seemed to be a trait in the Winchester bloodline.

"Please Dean, don't just run out on me again." Lydia asked her voice soft and almost childlike. "You're having fun right? Don't let Sam ruin it for you like he always does."

"I can't, not tonight." Dean finally said as he pulled himself to his feet and picked his t-shirt off the floor, "I've been gone long enough as it is."

"He's ruining your life, I hope you're aware of that Dean." Lydia said with a strong note of annoyance, "One day he's just gonna take off and leave you alone, and then what?"

Dean sighed out loud.

"He's my responsibility." Dean said simply as he reached over and kissed her. Angrily she turned away and Dean shook his head. "You don't understand Lydia."

"I've got a younger sister too Dean, but there's a difference between us." Lydia said pointedly, "I love my sister, but I don't let her run my life and control what I do."

"It's not like that." Dean said as he picked up his keys and wallet and headed towards her bedroom door.

"You know eventually he'll take off to college again, what will you do then? Everything you're giving up for him, a chance to be happy, will it all be worth it when he leaves you?" Lydia snapped.

Dean didn't respond.

Instead he left her room, headed downstairs, and left through the front door. Sitting in the drive way was his beloved Impala.

Sliding behind the wheel of the Chevy, Dean once again tried Sam's number and once again, the phone remained unanswered.

In annoyance Dean tossed the phone into the vacant seat behind him and headed straight for home...

* * *

Sam pulled his brown hooded sweater over his head as he stood in front of the veranda doors watching the sun setting in on the beach.

It looked beautiful, all the golden colours bleeding together to create a wonderful canvas capable of taking anyone's breath away.

Suddenly the door to the apartment swung open loudly, and the first words he heard were his name in annoyance.

"Sam!" Dean stormed, as he tossed the keys to the Impala onto the coffee table, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam took a deep breath, and began to count in his head.

"What have you got, wool for brains? When the phone rings you answer it, especially if the calls are from me!" Dean snapped, "Dude that was not cool pulling this stunt, having me break my date to come and check on your ass, but that's nothing new now is it? You've always been a selfish bastard."

Dean clicked his tongue as he continued to stare at Sam, who had remained wordless throughout his onslaught.

Dean gazed at Sam the fact that his younger brother had remained silent had surprised him. Finally Sam, spoke.

"You finished?" Sam asked in a simple tone as he walked into his room and emerged seconds later with his keys in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked in a small tone, the lack of response from Sam was biting at Dean's cheeks.

"To follow up something." Sam muttered vaguely, as he walked up to Dean.

Dean braced himself, for some reason he was expecting a punch to come flying at him. Instead Sam simply held the phone up to his line of sight.

"My phone never rang, check it, there are no missed calls on it." Sam said in a tight tone as he flicked the registered calls and Dean saw zero under the times he'd called.

Dean stared at Sam in confusion.

"But I called you, I heard your voicemail dude, I left you a shit loads of messages." Dean argued, "I know I did, Sam, seriously."

"Yeah, that's exactly it Dean." Sam interrupted, "One of us is having to be serious."

"Sam..." Dean said, a sigh in his tone, "Come on man..."

"I've got work to do, you, you do what the hell you want." Sam said simply, "You've been doing so for the last few months, why should now be any different?"

"I'm coming with you..." Dean said ignoring the last remark from Sam, as he reached for the keys to the car, "Where are we going?"

"We're, not going anywhere..." Sam muttered as he headed towards the front door of the beach side apartment.

"Dude, I've got the keys to car..." Dean said with a chuckle, "You won't get far on foot."

"Watch me." Sam said a determined look on his face as he disappeared out the door closing it silently behind him.

Part of the elder brother wanted to go and chase after him, apologise for what he'd said, even though he was still not sure to why his phone calls hadn't got through to Sam, but the other part of him knew that chasing Sam when he was in that mood, was futile.

Sighing out loud, Dean headed into the kitchen, open the fridge and pulled out a beer.

Heading back to the living room, he spotted the laptop on the table and the note pad sitting on top. Taking a sip from his bottle of beer, Dean read the notes at the top.

Curiously, Dean sat at the kitchen table and opened the laptop which thankfully hadn't been switched off.

The screen before Dean caused the elder brother's eyes to rise inquisitively.

"Well, well, well..." Dean muttered taking another sip of beer, "What have we got here?"

On the screen in front of him was a newspaper article on Dr. Andrew Wallis' death.

It was dated for over four months ago...

* * *

"What do you mean it disappeared?" Sam asked in a confused tone, "How can a body just disappear?"

"I got no idea, but I'm telling you Dr. Dresden, the body was right on this slab here..." The technician said, "It's been there the whole time."

"But the man died six days ago." Sam said in a simple tone, " And nobody made arrangements for the body?"

"None." The balding technician said with a shrug, "I remember putting the stiff in there when he came in, I did the paper work myself..."

"Do you remember what the C.O.D was?" Sam asked as he lent confidently against the metal table.

There was something decidedly uncomfortable to Sam Winchester in morgues. It was beginning to worry him how frequently he seemed to be in these places, and perhaps more worryingly, always looking for people he knew.

"Not off hand..." The assistant technician said, "But I could grab the file, it's in the other room."

"I'm in no hurry..." Sam said with a nod. He watched as the technician guy shuffled out the room. As soon as he was out of ear shot, Sam reached into his lab jacket and stared at the EMF recorder which was in his pocket.

It was still hovering at a safe, no spooks to be seen, green.

Sam sighed at the reading, he wasn't sure if he was pleased or disappointed.

The technician returned with a funny look on his face, which Sam noticed straight away.

"Look, Doc, you're not gonna believe this..." The technician said rubbing his bald head.

"Let me guess, you can't find the paper work?" Sam said with a half smile.

"It's worse than that, I can't find the entire freaking file..." The technician said with a confused shake of his head, "It's like the guy just vanished, poof, no trace, no nothing..."

Sam stared at the guy, unsure how to take the new information. He could feel the pit of his stomach churning, which was always a sign that this wasn't the answers he was hoping for.

The balding man in front of him took off his glasses and rubbed them on his lab coat, his small eyes darting around the morgue. His eyes finally focused on Sam.

"Doc, something weird is going on, something really, really, weird..." The technician said with a cautious look around the morgue.

Sam just sighed and walked quietly out the door of the morgue.

Something weird was going on?

The old technician didn't need to convince Sam that something clearly weird was going on.

Sam Winchester had already figured that part out...

* * *

Sam wondered out the hospital, and began pondering his next move. It was all getting too confusing, and right now, Sam just couldn't make sense out of what he was finding.

He could really do with Dean's help on this, but right now his older brother was behaving too much like an ass to be of any help to him.

What was with the attitude when he'd returned to the apartment, what was with Dean calling him a selfish bastard?

Sam rolled his eyes; he'd try and figure out the finer points to his dysfunctional relationship with Dean later on; right now he needed to decide on a course of action.

Walking away from the hospital, Sam couldn't help but stare at the parking lot. He had an odd memory of being here, he wasn't completely sure why he had been here but he knew that once again Dean knew the answers and as per usual, Dean was keeping Sam in the dark.

It was a cycle that was driving Sam mad.

The younger Winchester jumped when his phone started ringing; he looked down at it and sighed when he saw it was Dean.

He was so not in the mood for another argument and the temptation to ignore the call flickered in his head. However, he disregarded the idea; after all ignoring Dean's call was what apparently had made Dean so mad in the first place.

Sucking in a breath, Sam answered the call.

"You busy?" Came Dean's voice from the other end, Sam could hear shuffling on the line.

"Just following some stuff up, why?" Sam asked cautiously as he walked aimlessly around the large hospital parking lot.

"Just wondering where you are." Dean said in a quiet voice.

"Dean, is there anything in particular you want?" Sam muttered as he tried to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Ok, I get that you're peed at me, alright, I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean all that stuff..." Dean said with a heavy sigh, "I don't even know where it came from."

Dean listened to the silence on the other end.

"Sam, you still there?" Dean asked in a hesitant tone.

"Yeah, I am." Sam eventually said, "I wouldn't ignore your calls, you should know that."

"I know, I'm a moron, ok?" Dean said a smirk on his face.

Sam could imagine the smile appearing on his brother's face. Both of them hated fighting, it just never sat well with either of them. Sam could feel a wave of relief washing over him as he sat down on one of the many benches darted around the parking lot.

"Damn right you're a moron." Sam said with a grin, "Look, I'm kind of hungry, you want to grab dinner?"

"Sure thing." Dean said his voice distinctively brighter, "Which reminds me why I called in the first place, I think I got an idea on your doctor."

"Yeah well, I got plenty to tell you as well." Sam said with a chuckle, "Where do you want to eat?"

"Ermm, actually, do you mind if we stay in?" Dean asked in a cautious tone, "I'll order in, your choice on food."

Sam made a face, but decided not to push the subject of why Dean would ever turn down the opportunity to eat out.

"Ok, erm, look, my eating habits aren't exactly back to normal," Sam said with a shrug, "You choose what you want to eat and I'll head home."

"No, I'll come and pick you up," Dean said, determination clear in his tone.

"No, I'll walk, I'm not too far away now," Sam said stubbornness clear in his voice.

"Alright, I hope Chinese is cool with you…" Dean said a funny note in his voice.

"Yeah, it's fine, I'll see you in a bit..." Sam said as he ended the call without waiting for a reply from Dean.

The younger boy remained on the park bench staring at his cell phone. He had suddenly realised that he had to go home and face Dean and the idea of going home and going through another awkward session on the whole eating scenario wasn't filling him with a wonderfully fuzzy feeling.

It was filling him with dread.

Dean was probably ordering food right now, and he'll go home and stare at it, wondering if Dean had put anything in it.

Sam suddenly clambered to his feet.

The fact that Dean had wanted to stay home and order in, the fact that Dean had come home and behaved like such an ass earlier on, the fact that Dean just hadn't been himself today. Finally, there was that voice Sam had heard, telling him all those strange things, all the things that he was angry at Dean with, all those feelings that were buried deep inside.

Sam felt his stomach churn violently.

It couldn't be happening.

It couldn't be happening again.

He felt the bitter taste in his mouth as he tried to steady his frantically fraying nerves.

Collapsing back onto the bench again, Sam's head fell into his hands.

Was this really happening? Was Dean really possessed again?

* * *

**Oooh so the plot thickens. Thanks for reading. If you get a chance please leave a review, it's like fuel for the old horse here.**


	6. Exposed

**Thanks to all those who reviewed, it means a lot to know that you are still reading. I hope you're still enjoying my little mad ramblings.**

**Cookies as always to Carol.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter; it's what we've been waiting for between the boys in this story….**

**On with Exposed…**

**Chapter Six**

Dean's head poked up from the sofa as he heard it open.

"Hey," Dean said with a grin, "Food's already here, just grab some sodas from the fridge."

Dean paused momentarily as he was sitting on the floor, books spread out in front of him, and sitting on the couch was Sam's laptop. However, on hearing no response from Sam, Dean curiously pulled himself up.

As he stood up, Dean's eyes locked with Sam who had been hiding behind the other side of the couch.

The next thing Dean Winchester knew Sam was throwing something at him.

"That's holy water you demonic son of a bitch," Sam growled, but stood there surprised when Dean just stared at him, a deadpan expression on his face.

"Oh, you got to be freaking kidding me!" Dean said looking down at his soaked t-shirt, "Sam, have you gone insane?"

"I don't get it..." Sam mumbled as he stood there, the hip flask empty in his outstretched hand.

Dean snatched the flask away and tossed it agitatedly on the other couch, "Just in case you decide to throw the thing at my head!"

Sam remained stunned on the spot.

Dean stood there with a peeved look on his face.

"Sam, an explanation would be nice here," Dean said already beginning to peel off his t-shirt, as he headed towards his bedroom, "What are you trying to do, besides clearly exorcise me."

"I thought..." Sam mumbled as he sunk onto the sofa, confusion reigning on his face.

"What, that you want me to catch the flu in the freaking subzero temperatures we're living in now?" Dean said as he re-emerged from his room with a shirt and scowled at the air-conditioning unit above the veranda door as he wondered by it.

Sam remained silent.

"Come on now, Sammy, don't make me have to beg for an explanation," Dean said coming and sitting beside him, "No rational person comes in throwing holy water on someone without a good reason."

Sam stayed silent.

Instead, the younger Winchester seemed to be more interested in disappearing into the couch, which he was working hard at squashing himself into.

Dean gave him a look, this was worse than pulling friggin' teeth.

"So, what? I'm giving off signs that make you think I'm possessed?" Dean quizzed, "You think I'm under the influence, and I don't mean alcohol."

"Leave me alone," Sam mumbled in a small voice.

Dean smacked him on the arm in annoyance as he got to his feet and paced around the apartment.

"Sam you sound like your five years old again," Dean snapped, "So, come on, I want to know; what makes you think that I'm possessed, 'cause something in that cranky little head of yours had to have triggered that thought from somewhere."

Sam simply fidgeted with the end of his sweater. He didn't answer. He couldn't answer.

Dean barrelled around the sofa again and this time, sat on the couch and pulled Sam to look at him.

"This has got to stop Sam…right now! You understand me? This has got to end right now. You have to talk to me! You have to Sam because it's eating you alive, it's destroying you."

"I'm sorry," Sam said in a small voice. "I made a mistake, I'm sorry."

"Forget it, just forget it, ok?" Dean said with a sigh, looking at his brother closely, "But Sam, I mean it, please, please talk to me."

Sam could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

God he needed to tell Dean the truth. The truth about the whole trust thing, the fact that he was scared, the fact that he was terrified that things were never going to be the same between them again.

"Sammy please," Dean said, his voice much softer and more tender than Sam was used to. Dean sounded genuinely worried about him.

Sam opened his mouth, it either now or never.

"I'm...sc..." Sam whispered and closed his eyes.

He couldn't, he couldn't dump this on Dean. He couldn't make Dean feel anymore worse. This was his problem, he'd deal with it; somehow.

"Go on Sammy, it's ok," Dean urged in a gentle tone.

Sam suddenly clambered to his feet, almost knocking Dean off the sofa in the process. He could hear Dean physically sigh when he brushed past him.

"Food's getting cold, I'll grab some sodas," Sam stammered out as he headed into the kitchen.

Dean was right behind him.

"You were gonna talk to me, I know you were," Dean said in a patient tone, "And for some reason you've changed your mind, but don't ok? Don't. Whatever you think you're doing by not talking to me, you're wrong. It's not going to help. Fighting this by yourself, Sam, won't help."

Sam looked up from the fridge at Dean.

He took a deep breath in and studied Dean's face. He could see the fear, the worry, and the anxiety.

And he'd put it there. All by himself.

"You said you'd found something out about Wallis," Sam whispered, "Tell me what you found."

Dean stared at him in disbelief.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Dean demanded, as he watched as Sam hurried out of the kitchen, "And don't think this subject is just gonna drop, 'cause it won't. And you can't keep running away from me all night, this apartment is only so big."

Sam stopped and turned to face Dean, a scowl on his face.

"And you can wipe that look off your face right now," Dean muttered as he angrily walked to the take out bags and begun to dump the containers on the table, "You're the one who came in here pelting me with holy water like the stuntman from Rambo."

Sam stayed quiet, fidgeting on the spot.

"It's insulting that you think I'm possessed, but the fact that you won't even tell me why..." Dean steamed as he yanked the lids off the Chinese containers; the smell of sweet and sour chicken wafted in the air.

Dean paused with a container of egg fried rice in his hand and turned to look at Sam.

"Well, are you at least gonna eat? Or are you going to stand there all friggin' night staring at me?" Dean snapped, as he finished opening the four containers and sat down on one of the seats at the table. He clicked his tongue and studied Sam's expression…his brother was still staring right at him.

"Take a picture dude, it'll last longer," Dean muttered as he finally turned his back on Sam and proceeded to eat his food.

"Why did you want to eat in?" Sam whispered, not venturing any closer to Dean.

"What? Sam speak up," Dean mumbled as he turned to look at his brother, "I don't have supersonic hearing."

"Why did you want to eat in?" Sam repeated, a little louder this time.

It was then Dean heard the shaking in his voice. Leaving the food on the table, Dean got to his feet and studied Sam properly. His little brother was physically shaking, and he looked, well, he looked scared.

"Why is that so important?" Dean asked as his hand reached out to touch Sam, but his little brother backed off.

Dean looked surprised.

"Sam, whatever you clearly think is happening, or has happened, hasn't ok?" Dean said, "Now come and sit down, drink your soda and eat something. You need to eat; you're a bag of friggin bones."

Sam shook his head quietly and walked away from Dean and sat on the edge of couch, clearly agitated. Dean sighed. It sometimes felt like he was banging his head against a brick wall when it came to Sam.

"Sam I know your hungry, look, I'll just take some out for you," Dean said a note of pleading in his tone, "Come on Sam, if you don't talk to me then how can I help you?"

"I don't want anything," Sam said in a steady tone, "I'm fine."

"No you're not and stop saying you are," Dean snapped, feeling his own blood pressure rising, "I'm sick of this Sam, sick of what's happened to us and not knowing how to fix it."

Sam remained silent.

Dean sucked in a breath and tried to steady his nerves.

"Look, just eat something, anything," Dean said in a simple tone, "And we'll talk about anything other than what's happened, alright?"

"I said I don't want anything," Sam said in scared tone, "I don't want anything."

Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the table and picked up a chicken chow-mien container, a fork and held it out to Sam.

Sam's hazel eyes stared at Dean and then at the container.

"I said I don't want anything Dean, why won't you listen?" Sam yelled, as he tried to get up, but having Dean standing directly in front of him was proving it to be difficult.

"Because I can hear your stomach growling from here Sammy," Dean said in a stubborn tone, "Maybe it's the lack of food that's got you so crazy anyway."

"I said I don't want anything, I don't want anything from…" Sam started to say, but pulled up short. He could see the colour draining from Dean's face.

It was obvious that realisation had just hit home.

It made Sam feel about an inch tall.

"You don't want anything from me," Dean finished for him, as he quietly placed the container on the coffee table. He walked back to the small table he'd been eating at earlier. "Is that it Sammy, you don't want anything from me anymore?"

Sam could feel tears burning his eyes.

"It's not like that," Sam said in a small tone, unable to look at Dean.

"What, you still think I'm hurting you? Putting stuff in your food? In your drinks?" Dean challenged, as Sam's odd behaviour begun to make sense.

He laughed out loud.

It was either that or cry.

"Dean..." Sam said in a sad tone. He didn't even know what else to say; everything that sprang to mind sounded unworthy right now and hollow.

"That's why you came in brandishing holy water…you thought I was possessed by whatever it was that we killed. That's why you kept asking why I wanted us to eat in? You thought I'd put something in your food, that I was trying to hurt you again," Dean said in a dead tone. He felt numb and his appetite had vanished. He looked at the food containers and he wanted to be sick.

"It doesn't matter if I tell you right now, that I haven't done anything, because you won't believe me will you?" Dean said, getting to his feet and coming to look at Sam.

Sam sunk further into the sofa. He was wishing he could disappear. Anywhere.

"You don't trust me," Dean said in a small tone, his voice breaking as he shook his head, "Do you Sam? Have you stopped trusting me?"

Sam couldn't meet his brother's eyes, not anymore. However, from the lack of answer he knew he was giving Dean much more than his elder brother had wanted.

"I don't believe this," Dean whispered as he turned and walked towards the veranda door, slid it open and disappeared onto the deck.

Sam closed his eyes on hearing the door close, tears streaming down his face. He pulled his legs to his chest and cried into them.

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam whispered to the empty room, "I'm so sorry."

You see, Sam Winchester was beginning to piece what he knew about Wallis into the only solution that he understood at the moment. Whether he was right was a different ball game, but for now, as painful as what he was feeling and what he was putting Dean through was doing to him; he had to see it through.

If he was wrong, he'd beg, plead and grovel for forgiveness from Dean; if he was right, then Dean was going to be grateful for him catching on pretty quickly to what was happening to them both.

When the red-eyed demon had first emerged, it was Sam who had heard it, heard the entirely evil, mean and spitefully wicked comments the spirit had whispered to him. Sam had been the one who had originally been manipulated into seeing evil Dean's trying to kill him.

And all because the spirit had had an unsuspecting helper. A helper who was being manipulated without even realising.

Dean.

As soon as Sam had stopped being drugged, the haze had fallen, the voices had vanished and he'd seen the situation for what it was.

Now he was hearing the voices again, a different voice, but just as evil. It was trying to make him angry, and Sam didn't know why yet, but he knew he had to ignore the anger, he couldn't explain how, but he was convinced that he couldn't rise to the bait.

The equation was quite simple, if he was hearing voices, then somehow the drugs were getting into his system and the only other person, who had access to all of his life, was Dean.

His big brother.

Sam closed his eyes, the tears having calmed down a degree. He knew Dean was hurting, and he knew it was his fault. He'd been trying to shield Dean from this pain, this very situation for almost a week and then suddenly it had all come pouring out and sat horribly naked for them both to see.

He needed to talk to Dean and explain everything to him; he needed to explain to Dean that Wallis and the red-eyed spirit were connected; but how?

How do you have a conversation with someone you just told you no longer trust?

Sam had no idea, but he was going to have to think of a way and fast; he had a feeling that their lives would depended on it.

* * *

Sam, feeling worried and slightly light headed, sucked in a shaky breath and pulled the handle on the veranda door open slowly.

Sitting on the deck in the dark was his elder brother. Dean's back was to him, he'd moved the chairs away from the table and turned them to face over looking the beach, to look at the serenity of the water.

Sam walked quietly over to the chair and quietly placed the bottle of beer on the wooden rails in front of Dean.

"Peace offering," Sam said in a quiet tone as he lowered himself into the seat beside Dean. However, when no response came from his elder brother, Sam sighed and tried to think of something to say.

"I never meant for this to happen," Sam said quietly, "I never wanted to hurt you, it's the last thing I would ever want."

Dean shifted quietly in his seat, his face finally turned for a second to look at Sam, and then back again to the darkening sky.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said as he fidgeted with the end of his t-shirt, "I don't know what to do, I don't want to feel like this, but it won't go away."

"We're really screwed, aren't we?" Dean finally said as he continued to stare ahead, "You don't even trust me anymore, and you know what, I deserve that, I just didn't think it would be like this."

"I wish I could make this go away," Sam admitted, "But I can't Dean, I don't know how; and I don't know how to fix this."

"I would never hurt you," Dean finally said turning to look at him, "But you don't believe me anymore."

"Because, how do I know that's the end of the story? Dean try and see this from my point of view, I woke up confused and lost, and only had you to re..."

"Exactly Sam, you only had me! Dad pissed off god knows where and left me in a situation I had no idea what to do in. You died, you left me. Everyone left me!" Dean shouted as he scrambled from his chair and paced around on the deck, "And then somehow you came back, and I had doctors telling me that you could still get sick, that you could die, and I can't deal with that Sam, I can't. I can't go through that again."

Sam just shook his head, "We're just going in circles."

"You don't think I know that, you don't think I felt guilty lying to your face every single day? But I had to, because if you knew the truth, if you knew that dad had taken off because..."

"Because I screwed up," Sam said in a small voice, "Come on, Dean, at least be honest with me on that. You're thinking the same thing, that dad left because I was incapable of killing that son-of-a-bitch."

"I don't know Sam. Dad never stuck around long enough for me to ask him," Dean snapped, "I thought I was saving you, and I thought you realised that as well, but you obvious don't."

"You don't think I want things to go back to normal, you don't think I hate this, because I do!" Sam finally spat, as he got out of his own chair. "I can't sleep because all I ever see when I close my eyes is that night at the cliffs, or if that picture gets boring, I'm back at the cabin, or if there's another change I'm back in that car with you and dad dying around me."

Dean looked at Sam, both of them standing, apart from one another. Even though they were just a few feet away from each other, Dean felt separated and miles apart from his younger brother.

Sam broke the silence and what the younger boy said bought instant tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away hurriedly.

"We were just beginning to be brother's again. When I left for Stanford, I thought I'd lost everything when dad told me to never come back. But you came back for me, and you have no idea how much to this day that meant to me," Sam whispered, "I know it was to look for dad, but things changed Dean, I know it changed for you too."

Dean had to look away, his eyes were stinging violently.

"We made our own rules and yeah we fought, but we were more than brothers, you were my friend," Sam said as he turned and looked out at the now night sky, tears streaming down his face, "And it's gone now."

Dean could feel the tears burning on his face as they finally descended from his heavy green eyes.

"And I don't know how to get it back, I don't know if we can ever get it back," Sam admitted, "I just want this all to stop, for everything just to go away and leave us alone."

"But we can," Dean finally said in a broken tone, "We have to try Sam."

"I've been trying all week Dean, but I don't think I can fix this," Sam confessed, "I don't have the energy anymore."

"Then we'll fix this together, one hour at a friggin' time if that's what it takes," Dean said spinning around to look at Sam and marching over to his younger brother with such force that it surprised Dean when Sam stepped back.

"Sam?" Dean said looking at his younger brother.

"I'm scared. I'm scared that you're gonna hurt me and if you do, this spirit is gonna kill you next," Sam finally choked out as he looked at the shock on Dean's face. "I'm scared Dean, I am so scared and I don't know how to get out of this."

Dean stood dumbfounded on the spot.

Sam's words had floored him and for the first time in a very long time, Dean had no response to offer.

Sam was scared of him!

* * *

**Phew, well that was hard work. Please don't forget to drop me a line and let me know what you think. I hope to update again this week, fingers crossed.**


	7. We all Fall Down

**Thank you to those who reviewed. Sorry about the lack of updates, things have been a bit strange here at home. Hopefully things are back on track now and the updates will be a bit more regular. Thanks again for your loyalty when it comes to reading my rambles. Thanks to all who have added me to their story alerts, to their favourite author list (that just makes me smile) and of course those kind souls who have taken the time to review and of course PM little old me. Can't say thanks enough to all of you.**

**Well here's chapter Seven-We all Fall Down. Hopefully you can remember what happened at the end of chapter six.**

**Huge hugs to the gorgeous Carol xxx**

**Chapter Seven- We All Fall Down**

Sam was exhausted and judging from the look radiating on Dean's moonlit face, his elder brother was close to hell himself.

The younger Winchester could hear his blood rushing around his body, the noise filling up his ears, and making his eyes swim, his vision annoying him, his head feeling incredibly light.

Through the fogginess as he leaned heavily against the decking rails in the dark, he heard Dean speak.

"We can fix this," Dean said simply, his voice plain and determined as he got out of his chair and turned to look at Sam, " I don't care how long it takes, if it takes the rest of our friggin lives Sam; but we can fix this. We have to."

Dean studied Sam's turned back, his slumped body against the railings. Sam looked and resembled a child more than ever at the moment and it scared Dean more than he cared to admit to.

"I'm not losing you Sam," Dean finally stated, "And if we want this bad enough, then it'll work; it's not like we're gonna let some stinking demon get the better of us, now are we?"

Still silence.

"Sammy?"

Finally Sam turned and looked at him.

"No harm in trying," Sam admitted with a sigh, "You're right about the demon; we shouldn't let it get the better of us…I shouldn't let it get the better of me!"

"Good!" Dean said with a defiant nod, trying to keep it covered that inside he was doing back flips. "So how about we do something, anything and change this topic of conversation. God knows I have had enough chick flick girly moments in the last few weeks to last me my entire life!"

A broad smile spread across Sam's face as he watched Dean head towards the door.

Rolling his eyes, Sam also got to his feet…his intent to follow Dean indoors, but instead the younger Winchester found himself crashing back heavily onto the sun lounge he'd been sitting on. Dean paused at the doorway and looked at Sam.

"Whoa…" Sam said sitting still on the sun lounge, a dry chuckle escaping his mouth, "Must have gotten up too fast."

Dean came and knelt in front of him.

"Sure. Look, I'm beginning to sound like you, an over-protective mother hen, but it has to be said Sam, you got to eat. You're gonna pass out, so just humour me, or just humour your stomach and eat something will you?" Dean said in a no nonsense tone, "I'll even make you something to eat right in front your face so you know I'm not trying to kill you," Dean teased as he held his hand out to haul Sam up.

Sam's bleary eyes locked with Dean's.

"That's not even partly funny," Sam muttered, "Not funny at all!"

"Oh come on Sammy, it was a little funny," Dean said as he watched Sam slowly drag his long frame into a standing position. "You look like a mis-shaped raggy doll."

"I hate you," Sam muttered as he lugged the door open and headed back into the freezing apartment, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the new light.

"Ah, I know you do," Dean said as he wondered back into the apartment and promptly wrapped his arms around his body, "I hate that air conditioner!"

"Isn't there a way we can just switch it off completely, like a main plug or something?" Sam mumbled as he flopped down on the couch. "I'd rather be sweating to death than die from hypothermia."

Dean eyed the take out boxes that were still on the table, and in the end nodded in agreement. "Well considering our dinner actually needs defrosting now, I'm not going to sleep until I fix this freakin' machine."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes as he snuggled on the couch.

Dean stood quietly in the room, an awkward feeling rushing over him.

"You want me to make you some toast or something, or try and heat up some of this food?" Dean asked quietly.

"Nah, you go for it," Sam said quietly. "I just feel like crashing for now."

Dean's heart sank.

So much for them facing up to their problems.

* * *

Sam's eyes flickered open a few hours later and he was surprised to see Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away, his head down, staring at several books spread around him.

Slowly, Sam sat up, the noise attracting Dean's attention as the elder brother turned around to see his younger brother.

"Nice of you to join me," Dean said with a wicked grin. "You know research is always your thing."

"What's the matter, don't know how to look for anything online other than porn?" Sam quipped as he massaged the back of his neck with his hand.

"You're a natural comedian, you craggy doll look a like," Dean said sarcastically, as he turned back to one of his many books.

"Oh bite me," Sam muttered as he staggered unsteadily to his feet.

"I'd probably hit bone," Dean retorted which earned him a filthy dirty look from Sam.

Dean finally gave in with the teasing and his face softened as he watched Sam shuffle into the kitchen. Shortly, he heard his brother chuckle, and climbing to his feet, Dean followed Sam into the kitchen.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked as he rounded the open planned kitchen and leaned against the doorframe.

"Our breakfast is still on the counter," Sam said with a smile. "I'm gonna try and heat some of this stuff up…you want anything?"

"Nah, I got Chinese food coming out of every hole," Dean tenderly patted his stomach. "I tell you what I could do with, though..."

Sam's eyes rose to meet him from the brown paper bags he was rifling through. He noticed that Dean's usual smirk had vanished and he had a serious look on his usually humorous face.

Sam groaned out loud.

"I'm sorry that I chucked holy water at you," Sam finally said in a small voice. "I don't know what came over me."

"You see, that's what I want to talk about," Dean said in a stubborn tone. "And before you tell me to drop this, I'm not going to. Something had to set you off Sam. I know you dude, you just don't usually toss freakin' holy water over your brother. So tell me why you did it."

Sam stood on the spot and considered what Dean had said. He finally went back to hunting in his bags and returned with containers with bacon, sausages and eggs.

"Sam!" Dean snapped as he marched over to him and pulled the containers from his hands. Sam stood helplessly watching Dean abduct his food from him.

"What? Dean, what do you want me to say?" Sam said in a tired tone, as he ran a hand through his brown hair. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Dean's hurried motions of dumping the contents onto a plate and shoving it in the microwave was halted momentarily as he turned and looked at Sam.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that, eh Sam?" Dean said in a plain tone. "Look, with Wallis dead, and that freaky red-eyed spirit thing coming after us, and now this whole fiasco between us; it's not a coincidence Sam."

"Ok." Sam said with a slow nod as he listened to the ping of the microwave and watched as Dean removed the plate from the contraption and returned to the living room. Sam followed the smell of the now hot food and flopped down on the sofa where Dean handed him the plate with a fork.

"So start," Dean said resuming his seat on the floor amongst the books.

Sam took an unsteady breath and looked down at Dean.

"I used to hear this voice, this awful, awful voice in my head that somehow..." Sam said in a pained voice as Dean found himself intently listening,

"That somehow, what?" Dean gently prodded.

"That, that somehow knew all these thoughts I had, these feelings," Sam said quietly, his eyes dropping to his plate now. "After the crash, with dad gone, I just couldn't help the way I was feeling."

"What were you feeling?" Dean said slowly as he dragged himself over on the floor. The excitement in his tone, however, could not be hidden. "Sam, be honest."

"Guilty," Sam whispered. "I just felt so guilty for not killing the demon…for everything that had happened," Sam admitted as he finally looked up at Dean. "But I only had these feelings when you were drugging me. That voice that seemed to come to life in my head, but Dean, it was different. When those drugs were in my system, I could barely function. I just felt like hell, but that voice, it was there saying horrible things."

"I know what you mean," Dean admitted. "It was always messing with my head, saying really weird things. It just seemed to know what buttons to push."

"But Dean, when I found out what you were doing, with the pills in my food and stuff, I just stopped taking it; and the voice and everything vanished. It was like this weight had vanished and I was finally seeing clearly again." Sam explained quickly. "Things were going ok, and now..."

Dean took a deep breath, "And now things suck?"

Sam laughed at his older brother's rapid summary of the situation the Winchester's found themselves rooted in.

"That's a pretty accurate summary to our lives," Sam said as he finally popped a piece of bacon in his mouth. The younger Winchester could feel Dean's eyes examining his every move.

"Sam, while I get what you just told me, I don't get how that has to tie in with holy water and giving me a shower with it," Dean asked stubbornly.

"When you were out with that girl," Sam finally said with a sigh, "I heard it again."

"Heard what again?" Dean asked, confused as realisation begun to filter through. "Wait, you heard the voice again?"

"Yup, it was back and it was almost the same, but somehow different…" Sam said confusion rife on his face. "Which is why I thought that red-eyed spook was back somehow."

"No, no way!" Dean said, getting to his feet and commencing to pace. "That bastard is dead, I've never seen a spirit go out like that before, but that thing is dead!"

"Are you sure, I mean Dean are you like sure sure?" Sam asked, a curious look crossing his face. "Cause I know what I heard, and it was exactly the same way the red-eyed spirit was talking to me."

Dean stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips as he mulled over the new information.

"Guess it explains why you doused me then," Dean said with a shrug. "You thought it was back?"

"I don't think it's back Dean, I know it is," Sam said hurriedly placing his uneaten food on the couch beside him and picking up his laptop from the floor. "I just assumed it was the same one."

"And now you're thinking?" Dean said, walking around behind the sofa and peering at the computer screen over his brother's shoulder. "What, you're thinking it found a way back from the hell fire it died in, cause dude, if it has; that's one freaking neat trick!"

Sam shook his head, "No I think you're right, that one is dead."

"One?" Dean blurted out. "Holy shit, you think there are more of these things, spirits, whatever the hell they are?"

"It has to be," Sam said in a grave tone. "You said yourself that the red-eyed one made you feel guilty; well it made me feel the same way. Maybe that's what it gets its kicks out of, tapping into other peoples guilt."

Dean sat down amongst the books again, his eyes carefully acknowledging that Sam had rejected his food in favour of researching.

At least he'd eaten a slice of bacon…Dean would take what he could get.

"Ok, so we're looking now for more than one, and possibly a feeder?" Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "This just sucks!"

"Don't forget the eyes," Sam said his own hazel eyes never leaving the screen. "Those glowing eyes can't just be there for decoration."

Dean sighed a little louder than he'd expected and it caused Sam to look up.

"You ok?" Sam asked in a concerned voice, as his eyes darted back to the computer.

"No, Sam, no I am not ok," Dean said frustration clear in his voice, " Man, why can't we just catch a break?"

Sam nodded quietly; he could understand Dean's anger.

"All we ever do is hunt and the one time we're not hunting, something is hunting us?" Dean said shaking his head. "I'm just sick of always having to do this; why can't this be someone else's problem?"

Sam hoped that outwardly he wasn't radiating how shocked he was with the outburst. Hunting was his elder brother's world and to hear Dean verbally admit that he was sick of always doing this surprised Sam.

"We'll just find this one and we'll kill it and…" Sam said trying to compose his sentences carefully.

"And what Sam?" Dean said in a exhausted tone. "Suck in another breath and wait until the yellow-eyed demon comes after us, or something weird happens in another town and we go check it out?"

"It'll be ok," Sam said in a small tone. "We've come this far Dean, and we've been through hell the last couple months. I promise you things will be ok."

Dean looked at Sam, and for a moment, their eyes locked, neither of them saying anything.

"I just want my family back…I don't want to feel like every time we walk out the door, I may not see any of you again," Dean said with sadness tainting his voice. "Why can't we just find a house, find a nice town and just sit still for a few months?"

"Cause that's not what Winchesters do," Sam said with a broad smile. "Besides you'd be bored senseless within a day." Sam teased.

"Probably," Dean admitted, with a grin, "But I'd still like the option."

Sam felt the sadness that seemed to radiate off Dean. The words he spoke next surprised them both.

"You won't lose me Dean," Sam said as Dean suddenly looked up at him. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

Dean smiled and then lowered his eyes back to the book, "You shouldn't have said that Sammy."

Sam looked at him confused, "Why not?"

"You've never heard the term, 'famous last words'?" Dean asked quietly, and with that he kept his head down and continued staring at the page in front of him.

Sam stared at the top of Dean's head.

God he hoped his big brother was wrong...

* * *

"Getting anywhere?" Dean asked as he looked up from the book he had been staring at for god knows how long. His brain had taken a reprieve from reading and had found staring at the old pages much more relaxing.

It was Sam's sudden movement on the couch that had broken his lull.

"Sammy?" Dean called again as he began to place the book onto the floor and get to his knees to see what had Sam so agitated.

Sam shoved the laptop at Dean, and it took a heck of a lot of balance from the elder brother not to topple onto his back with the computer in his arms.

"Dude?!" Dean snapped in surprise as he pulled himself onto the couch to watch Sam fly off it in panic. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Read it," Sam whispered as his eyes locked with Dean's dubious hazel green eyes. Making a face, Dean finally turned his attention to the laptop.

Sam Winchester listened to his heartbeat hammering a death song into his head.

He watched as every speck of colour on Dean's face drained away.

He watched as Dean turned and looked at Sam in absolute horror.

"There, there…" Dean stammered as he placed the laptop on the couch and reached for one of the numerous books strewn on the floor. "There, has to be some mistake."

Sam simply shook his head.

"Dean it fits, every detail fits," Sam stammered out. "Dean?"

Dean's hand hovered over one of the text books and then dropped to his side. He finally looked up at Sam.

"We're screwed," Dean finally admitted. "Oh hell, man, we're totally screwed."

* * *

**Poor boys. Now they think they're screwed. Maybe they are...or maybe they just think they are. Thanks for reading and see you soon for an update. xxx**


	8. Words of Discouragement

**Thank you all for the reviews and the PM's and of course to those who have taken the time and gone back and re-read Forsaken and Lying in Wait, I'm totally chuffed ! Thanks again for all your lovely words, I've tried getting back to all of you through email, so thanks again..**

_**Oceane:**_** Thanks for the review. I'm glad you thinking it's a good idea that Sam finally confessed about the voice to Dean.**

**Got to admit, not much action in this chapter, but we finally know what we're dealing with and a little word from Pa…**

Chapter Eight- Words of Discouragement 

Sam watched as Dean shuffled out his room and straight into the kitchen. He emerged again with a mug of coffee and sat down at the table.

Sam studied Dean's vacant face.

"You get any sleep?" Sam asked feebly, he knew it was a stupid question, 'cause he already knew the answer, it was the same as his…no.

Dean shook his head and took a sip of his black coffee, his green eyes finally peeped over the rim and made contact with Sam's pale, fragile exterior.

"Dude, you look like hell…" Dean commented, which earned a chuckle from Sam.

"Yeah, well, I stayed up all of last night trying to figure something out, anything out," Sam admitted which earned a scowl from Dean.

"Why did you let me sleep?" Dean asked tiredly, "We both should be working on this, go and get some sleep, I'll pick up where you left off."

"That's just it Dean, I've found so much shit out now, but the one thing I am yet to find…" Sam said scrubbing his tired face, "is how to kill the thing."

A small smile danced on the edge of Dean's lips, and Sam stared at his brother in surprise.

"Something funny?" Sam questioned as he sighed loudly and rested his forehead on the table.

"Yeah, actually there is." Dean said with nod, "Worrying how we're going to kill it is probably the only thing we got going for us right now."

"What?" Sam asked in confusion as he lifted his head up a fraction so he could stare at Dean, "You clearly need more coffee, or scotch."

Dean clicked his tongue and stood up from the table, leaving his half drunk coffee on the table, "Ahh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." Dean said with a grin, "The lack of sleep and food must seriously have scrambled your brains."

Sam shot him his infamous bitch face and finally sat up straight at the table.

"Ok, Einstein, what's your great idea?" Sam asked as he folded his arms across his chest, trying to stifle a yawn that threatened to escape.

"You killed one already," Dean said with a shake of his head, "Remember, the night at the cliff, the red-eyed one, you killed it."

Sam scratched his head in confusion as he twisted in his seat to look at Dean who was wondering in and out of his room.

"I thought you were the one who killed him?" Sam said with a clear note of confusion, "You shot him."

"Yeah, and who gave me the gun, and speaking of gun," Dean remerged with his pearl-handled pistol, "What on earth did you to do it?"

"Nothing!" Sam said with an adamant nod, "I just loaded it."

"Dude, these were not normal bullets, and…" Dean said wrinkling his nose as he smelled his gun, "That is the worse smelling gun powder in the world!"

Sam's eyes widened and a broad wicked grin plastered across Dean's.

"I changed the bullets!" Sam said brightly, "Yeah, right before you came back to the apartment I put some bullets I'd been mucking around with into the magazine."

"Mucking around with?" Dean asked in confusion, "What do you mean, where did you get them?"

Sam looked dubiously at Dean, as realisation dawned on Sam.

"Holy crap, they worked!" Sam breathed as he sat still in his seat. It took Dean smacking him across the shoulder for him to snap out of his trance.

"Dude?" Dean asked as he stood beside him at the table, Sam looked up at him. "Sam where did you get those bullets from?"

"I, erm, I made them." Sam finally admitted as he studied Dean carefully and suddenly grabbed the gun from Dean's hand.

Dean's eyebrows stalked up as he sat back down in his seat and looked at Sam, who was hurriedly checking magazine of the gun.

"You made them?" Dean asked, an unconvinced look on his face.

"Yeah, so where are the rest of them?" Sam asked as he looked up from the barrel at Dean. "I made a barrel-full…"

Dean clicked his tongue and clambered back to his feet, "They're gone!"

"Gone, gone where?" Sam shrieked, "Dean, please tell me you didn't just use them for shooting practice."

"Of course not!" Dean said, shaking his head, "I used them on the spirit."

Sam looked physically deflated at the idea, and Dean shot him a look.

"Dude, you can just put your magician's hat back on and make some more," Dean said with a shrug. "I'm gonna grab a shower and then I want you to fill me in on everything you found out about the spirits."

"Actually they're demons," Sam corrected as he got to his own feet, ignoring the look on Dean's face.

"What?" Dean whispered, as he forgot about his shower and headed after Sam into the kitchen, "They're demons?"

"Yup, think four horsemen meet feeders," Sam said simply as he searched under the cupboard, his face unseen by Dean. By the time Sam emerged with the huge silver pot, Dean was almost on top of him.

"Four horsemen of what?" Dean demanded, "Sam, sit and get talking, now!"

Sam shot him a look and continued looking in the cupboards.

"The four horsemen, Dean, of the apocalypse." Sam explained, "These are just a nastier version of them."

Dean pulled himself onto the counter and sat there as he watched Sam busy himself with herbs. Usually, seeing Sam on autopilot filled Dean with ease, but right now it was rather worrying to notice that the only person who seemed nervous at the idea of the four horsemen after them was Dean and only Dean.

Dean finally grabbed Sam's arm just as he turned to leave again.

"Just slow down and explain what we're up against, before I have to staple you still." Dean teased.

Sam finally nodded and stood where he was, Dean still sitting on the counter.

"Ok, these things are demons, really nasty sons-of-bitches." Sam explained.

"They got names?" Dean asked curiously.

"They're called Alchemists, collectively…" Sam explained as he studied Dean's face, "Separately, they break down into four separate entities."

"Let me guess…one of them is, Guilt?" Dean guessed shaking his head, "This is freaking ridiculous!"

"Yup, Guilt, Fear, Anger and Inhibition," Sam explained,

"I think it's safe to say we nailed Guilt," Dean said with a grin, "So, three to go, ok, lets find these puppies and put them down!"

With that, he hopped off the counter and headed towards the bathroom. However, the lack of response from Sam bothered him. Glancing back he saw Sam looking at him.

"What?" Dean asked, as he leaned against the door frame.

"Remember I said, they were a cross between the…"

"Four horsemen…" Dean said with a nod, waiting for the point to kick in.

"And a feeder demon." Sam finished with a long sigh.

"Ok, so I won't deny that it won't be easy, but dude, now we know what we're up against…we can do this." Dean said with a confident nod. "We'll just keep an eye on each other and start talking."

Sam walked quickly into the living room and stood closer to Dean. Clearly, his elder brother wasn't following this conversation.

"Dean, it's not as simple as that," Sam explained, "They won't only feed off us, they feed off each other."

Dean's face screwed up with confusion.

"At least I get what Guilt was talking about when he said, killing him would be the biggest mistake of my life," Sam muttered in annoyance.

Dean looked in confusion at Sam.

"Dude, it's too early for me guessing what you're really talking about," Dean said with a tut of annoyance.

"Dean, they feed off each other," Sam said in an angry tone, "Every time we kill one of them, the powers are re-divided between the remaining."

Dean chewed his lip on this new information.

"Every time we kill one of them, we make the remaining ones stronger," Sam spelled out, "Which means even if we somehow manage to kill any of these ones left, by the time we get to the final one…" Sam explained, his voice trailing off.

"This is freaking insane!" Dean said shaking his head, "So if we kill them, we die, and if we don't kill them, we still die?"

"Yup," Sam said in a weary tone. "Great odds, eh?"

Dean silently walked into the bathroom and closed the door, his mind racing as he tried to think of any way out of the situation they were in.

The only thing Dean could keep coming up with was the same answer he'd been left with last night.

They were totally screwed.

* * *

"I can not believe you shot me!" Alex Vetorio muttered between clenched teeth as he sat on his couch, his younger brother inspecting the wound.

John Winchester stood a few feet away, a dead-pan look on his face as he tried to ignore the burning eyes to his left hand side.

"It was an accident, Alex," John tried to explain, "You just got in the way of my shot."

Alex looked up at John, "It's a good thing you did hit me, cause if that shot had hit that demon, the only thing that would have done, would end in your head being removed from your shoulders!"

Ben Vetorio, shot his old friend a look, his eyes wide in surprise.

"You tried to shoot a Busking demon, with a chest shot?" Ben asked as he stared at John, "If you're even thinking of shooting them, it's a head shot, to their third eye."

"It's just a graze, you'll be fine, kid," John said ignoring what Ben had just said.

Nic Vetorio, looked away from his older brother's wound and studied his father's friend curiously, "Hey John, out of curiosity, why are you interested in demons?"

John stared at the younger Vetorio, and couldn't help be unnerved that the youngster never once broken eye contact.

"Just am," John said simply as he turned to leave the room. "I think you should get some ice on that wound."

Ben followed him out the living room and into the kitchen.

"You shot my son!" Ben hissed in anger as he looked squarely at John.

"It was an accident," John said as he stared at Ben. "Ben, it was an accident."

"Really, cause I am finding it mighty hard to believe that right now!" Ben muttered tightly as he filled the kettle with water and switched it on.

"You seriously think I would try and kill your kid?" John asked, the defensiveness, clear in his tone of voice.

"I don't know what to think, other than a couple of inches the other way and I could have had a dead child on my hands," Ben hissed, his pain clear on his face.

"Ben, I _am_ sorry," John finally admitted. "I wouldn't do anything to endanger your children…you must believe that!"

Ben was silent for a few moments, as John walked up to him, his worry clear on his face.

"Man, I'm sorry," John said with a dry chuckle, "And you know I must be sorry, cause I never apologise for anything." John said with a smile, but it didn't budge the look of doubt etched on his old friends face, "You have to believe me…"

"John, I don't know what to believe," Ben admitted as he turned away from John and concentrated on pouring the boiling water into a bowl. "All I know, is that I never heard a word from you in over decade, you come back to me asking for help in looking for your demon; if that wasn't bad enough, you're a friggin hunter, with plenty of hunter buddies who would love nothing more than to see my boys swinging from trees or burning at the stake."

John chuckled at Ben's rant, "Nobody else knows about them, and beside, this isn't Salem, they won't burn."

"That's not even funny," Ben muttered, "How do I know I can trust you?"

John smiled at Ben, he could see the protection in his face for his sons, it was protection and love he recognised and empathised with, but it was also one not to be messed around with by any means.

"You know you can trust me Ben, and what happened today really was just an accident. Alex really did just get in the way of my shot," John explained, "I wouldn't do anything to hurt those two. Besides, if anything happened to one of them, the other would butcher me."

"I'm glad you know that," Ben said with a nod.

"So you will help me?" John asked hopefully, "You'll help the boys and me?"

"We'll do our best," Ben said as a smile appeared on his face, " Man, did you really try and kill a busking demon with a chest shot?"

John laughed out loud and watched as Ben left the kitchen carrying herbs and the bowl of water.

He watched his old friend leave and breathed a sigh of relief. The shot had been na accident, the boy had walked into the shot, it had all just happened too fast.

He couldn't upset this family; he needed them more than anything.

As John's cell phone begun to vibrate in his pocket, the elder Winchester stared at the family inside the living room.

He had to keep them on his side.

After all, the Vetorio family was John Winchester's key to rebuilding his own broken family.

* * *

Dean wondered out the bathroom, a look of surprise clear on his face. What he had expected to see was Sam feverishly recreating whatever the hell it was he'd done to create those bullets; instead, what he got was Sammy sitting on the sofa.

Doing nothing.

"Alright, what's going on in that freaky head of yours?" Dean asked, a note of teasing at the forefront of his voice, hiding the worry that actually was behind the question.

Sam remained silent.

Dean made a face and walked over to the sofa, his feet padding quietly across the beach coloured floor.

"Sam?" Dean asked coming and sitting down beside his younger brother, "Come on man, talk to me."

Sam's eyes finally moved to Dean and he studied him quietly before he answered.

"Dean..." Sam said in a small voice, "We can't beat these guys, we just can't..."

"So, you're just gonna write our chances off without even giving it a shot?" Dean demanded, "Come on Sam!"

"I'm serious," Sam said, his voice still remaining quiet, in comparison to Dean's louder, angrier tone. "We barely made it through the last attack."

"We survived though," Dean countered, "That's something they weren't expecting."

"We barely Dean, barely, survived Guilt's attack on us..." Sam said with a shudder, "And that was when they were at their weakest."

"Tough shit Sammy! Pull yourself together and get inside that kitchen and make those bullets the same way you made them the last time." Dean said in a no nonsense tone. "If, and I do mean, if, we're gonna lose this battle; I'm sure as hell taking out as many of those sons-of-bitches along the way."

Sam still remained on the couch, as Dean stared at Sam's lack of motivation and enthusiasm; he had been hoping that his little pep speech would have broken through to Sam.

Clearly it hadn't.

"Sam, this isn't like you," Dean finally admitted, "You never give up anything without a fight!"

"I wish dad was here," Sam eventually said, his eyes cast down as he said the words he knew Dean didn't want to hear. "I know you hate his guts right now, and you're pissed; but I really wish he was here!"

"Well he's not!" Dean said bluntly, "He packed up and walked out on us. I don't know why you're so surprised, I thought you would have been used to watching his back walk out the door."

Sam's jaw clenched as Dean watched his brother's mouth muscles work.

"I tried calling his cell phone," Sam started as Dean's eyes widened.

"You did what?" Dean shouted, standing up in shock and instantly taking to pacing.

Sam just stared flatly at Dean, "He never picked up, in fact I just got his voicemail."

"Did you leave one?" Dean asked, biting his bottom lip and awaiting his little brother's answer.

"Yes," Sam said simply, "But am I expecting him to call me back, no."

"You are a total ass! Why did you call him, Sam?" Dean barked as he stalked around the living room, "Do you think if he gave a shit about you in the first place, he wouldn't have called to see how you were doing? You were the one in the coma, you were the one barely hanging on to life, you were one who died; but has he called once to see how you are, to see how either of us are? No, Sam, he hasn't."

Sam just stared at Dean, he could feel the tears stinging his eyes and he had to look away as he frantically tried to blink them away.

"He didn't care whether you lived or died," Dean growled, his anger so prominent on his face that it frightened Sam. "He didn't care if either of us were ok."

"I just thought," Sam started to say, but honestly had no more words or energy to continue the conversation.

"Just stick to what we know Sam, that we're on a hunt, and we're gonna do this job and get the hell out of this stinking town," Dean muttered, "I have had it up to here." Dean muttered touching the top of his forehead, "Why do you always have to make this more complicated, why can't you just ever do something, without me having to ask you half a million times."

"I'm sorry that you're angry at dad, but he is still my dad," Sam finally said, "And I miss him, and I wish he did pick up the phone, and you know what, you're probably right about everything; but I need this Dean, I need to believe that he didn't just abandon us for some hunt."

"What, you need reassurance that dad still gives a rat's ass about us, about you?" Dean spat, the venom heightened in his tone, "Well you're not gonna get it from me, I'm sick to death of always playing the go between, the median, I'm just sick of everything."

Dean watched as Sam got to his feet and walked into his bedroom.

"Sam, lets get to work, we've been messing around too much as it is," Dean snapped, "No more stalling now."

Sam came out of his room, his towel in his hand.

"Can I at least get a shower first?" Sam muttered as he walked into the bathroom without waiting for Dean to answer.

Dean watched the bathroom door close quietly and the shower kicked to life.

He knew he shouldn't have said those things, but Sam had asked for that. Sam needed to know that the one thing they didn't need on this hunt was complications; and John Winchester turning up would possibly be the biggest complication of Dean's life.

So Sam will sulk and pout a bit today, but he'd get over it and behave professionally; especially now with a hunt landing on them.

With that, Dean picked up one of the ancient looking texts that Sam had been reading earlier and began to work.

* * *

Sam Winchester closed the door to the bathroom and snapped the shower on and watched as the water began to hit the screen.

It was then he could feel the tears on his own face. He couldn't hold it back anymore.

Dean's angry words paraded around in Sam's head. It caused his heart to plunge to the pit of his stomach, an ache deep down at a strength he didn't know was humanly possible.

Dean's words had been the truth.

And that's what hurt Sam the most.

**

* * *

****Oh Dean, your anger (hint hint) is out for all to see, and Sammy has to stay strong. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please remember to leave a review if you've read it; I like cookies, they keep me writing xxx**


	9. Reminiscene

**Thanks for all the reviews, they are always appreciated. This is the last update for this year, so just want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful and safe New Year. Thanks to each and everyone of you who read 'Lying in Wait' and of course 'Catch 22' this year. I hope you've all enjoyed it. Thanks for all the reviews and your time and effort in sticking with me and my crazy pages of writing.**

****

**Chapter Nine- Reminiscence**

Dean stared up at Sam who emerged out of the bathroom, silently, a grin played on the elder brother's face.

"So give me some kudos here man," Dean said swinging his legs off the couch and heading over to Sam who had wandered into his bedroom. "I don't know what you were doing last night, besides clearly freaking out..."

Sam gave Dean a peeved look.

Dean simply shot him back that grin, which often made Sam want to throttle him.

"But I was just researching into our new not so friendly demons and I found out a hell of a lot about Fear and Anger," Dean explained, "They kind of feed off hidden resentment, deeply hidden psychological issues. Which, I guess doesn't look too great for you Sammy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam said, working the towel he had in his hand over his wet hair, "You think I got psychological issues?"

"Me, no, you're just the same Sam I've always known, to anyone else, they'd probably think you were a little disturbed..." Dean said with a dubious look.

Sam grew angry, but swallowed it down, and in a controlled tone finally spoke to Dean, who was oblivious to Sam's reaction.

"What about Inhibition?" Sam tightly asked.

"See I was hoping you could switch your geek side to helpful mode, instead of just well odd, and find out what exactly Inhibition does," Dean said with a shrug, "There were just too many explanations."

"What did they have in common?" Sam asked as he brushed past Dean in his room and headed into the living room and straight out the veranda door, standing outside in the warm, comforting sun shine.

Dean simply shrugged.

"Dean, did you even bother looking?" Sam asked with a tut.

"Look, just tell me what it actually means," Dean asked with a sulky expression, "I mean I did bother looking it up, but it just gave me some weird definition"

Sam pulled out one of the chairs from the deck furniture and sat facing the sunshine, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the lounge's cushioned interior.

"Sam?" Dean asked a sceptical look on the elder brother's face.

"What, I'm waiting for your definition?" Sam pushed.

"And I'm waiting for yours?" Dean muttered mirroring Sam's position now in his own lounge.

Sam chuckled to Dean's clear annoyance.

" Something I'm doing that's funny..?" Dean demanded as he sat up on the chair.

"Nope, nothing at all," Sam said with a grin, "Just, wondering how hard it is for you to say the words, Sam I need your expert help."

Dean looked horrified at Sam's suggestion, and his smile got a little more mischievous.

"How about, Sam, if you don't answer my friggin question, I'm gonna kick your ass in?" Dean asked as he watched Sam's amused expression turn into a scowl.

"Moron." Sam muttered as he sighed discontented, "Fine, there isn't really a clear explanation for inhibition."

"But?" Dean asked as he kept his eyes on Sam.

"But, the inhibition kind of comes under control," Sam said with a shrug, "it's like when you're drunk, and you feel you can do anything you want, that even the worse ideas in the world are suddenly the greatest."

"Ok..." Dean answered, drawing out the word.

"Remember that waitress in Tampa?" Sam said with a grin, "That's what you call, losing your inhibitions."

Dean looked physically horrified and shuddered outwardly,

"Didn't I tell you to never mention her again?" Dean sulked which made Sam laugh.

"Hey, is that the real reason why you chose to come to Clearwater, I mean technically we are in Tampa. Is that it Dean, you want to hook up with her again?" Sam teased, which darkened his elder brothers mode instantly.

"So that's what inhibition means?" Dean muttered as he pulled at his already tacky t-shirt, "That we just lose the ability to made sane decisions?"

"Pretty much, it just removes rational thought from the process of thinking," Sam said with a shrug." Like, when we were little, when you thought it was cool to play chicken with the cars, not realising that if you got hit, the car would probably cream you."

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"That was you," Dean said with a grin, "Dad was so pissed at you..."

"No ah, that was you," Sam said pointing at Dean, "I remember that clearly Dean, we were out getting groceries, and you let go of dad's hand and dashed into the road to get to the ice cream truck..."

"How the hell would you remember that?" Dean demanded, "I'm older than you!"

"Dude, you were like eleven," Sam said with a grin, "Dad was so pissed, he…"

"Laid into the ice cream truck driver for calling me over," Dean said in a breathless tone, "I totally forgot about that."

"Yeah, only dad would try and beat up an ice cream truck guy, instead of throttling you for running off," Sam said with a gentle smile as he studied Dean's silent response. "He does love us Dean, and I don't know why he's taken off, but I know that he's done it for us, to make things better for us."

"How can you be so sure?" Dean finally asked, "How?"

"Cause I have no choice," Sam admitted, "This is all I got, all I can do is hope."

"Well you're being set up for a fall Sammy," Dean mumbled, "And you're gonna land hard on your ass this time."

"Then so be it, but I need to believe this Dean, I need to believe that dad is doing this for a reason." Sam said with a shrug, a note of stubbornness in his tone.

"I'll tell you what he's doing," Dean muttered the anger again rising in his voice, "He's saving his own skin, not having the burden of always watching out for you."

Dean pulled up short, but the words were already out and the little colour Sam had in his already pale face slowly drained away.

"Sam, I didn't..." Dean awkwardly started to say, knowing that any attempts of apology would just sound as pathetic as he felt at that moment.

"Is that how you feel? That I'm a burden?" Sam asked breathlessly, he didn't have the strength to hide the fact that he was hurt.

"I'm sorry..." Dean whispered, the sincerity clear in his voice and on his face, "I didn't mean for it come out like that."

Sam shrugged, but never continued the conversation. Instead they sat in an awkward silence that Dean was too scared to break.

So, Dean just sat there watching Sam.

"Well you know what inhibition now means," Sam eventually said, "Just be careful, we got not idea who these people are…they could be anyone."

Dean nodded silently and finally looked at Sam, trying to meet his eyes. Sam refused to make any eye contact as he got to his feet and headed into the apartment.

"I'm going to head to the local library, see if I can find a lead about who these Alchemists could possibly be," Sam said as he heard Dean follow him in.

"Cool, I'll give you a hand," Dean said with a nod, "We'll crack this hunt in no time Sammy, you'll see, things will be ok."

"What was it you said to me last night, famous last words?" Sam muttered.

Before Dean could answer, Sam looked bluntly at him, his voice having a cutting tone to it.

"You stay here, maybe try and find out all you can about these demons, where they come from, why they're here, why they've come after us," Sam muttered as he picked up his door keys from the side table.

"We'd work faster together," Dean said feebly.

"We'll cover more ground apart," Sam said simply and with that response he opened the front door and disappeared from Dean's sight, not allowing the elder brother a chance to speak.

"I'm sorry Sam," Dean said glumly as he heard Sam's foot steps disappear from the door.

What the hell was wrong with him? Lately all he seemed to be doing was saying all the wrong things and making Sam feel about ten inches tall, which was some achievement, considering Sam's actual height. He hated that he was the sole one responsible for making Sam feel the way he was.

It was just every single time Sam mentioned their father, it activated some switch in Dean's head. Every ounce of him was transported back to that hospital where Sam had died and that awful dreaded feeling of being abandoned and alone came flooding back to him. He hated John for leaving them, for walking away and never once looking back. It made Dean feel worthless. He hated that John cared that little about his own children, that he could physically walk away from his youngest son who had risked his own life to save his family.

The anger was chewing Dean up from the inside.

* * *

Sam sat at one of the many tables in the library drumming his pen against the open textbook in front of him. Things weren't going to plan…again.

He sighed deeply and finally closed the book, folded his arms in front of him and rested his head on it. He couldn't understand what was happening to Dean and himself but he knew if things continued the way they were, they would never be able to fix the damage to their relationship.

He felt broken.

And it frightened Sam to accept it.

There had been times in his life when things had been tough, worrying, even scary but usually they would filter away to a manageable level because the consistent safety net in his life was there to save him, to make him feel safe.

Now his safety net had a massive hole in it.

He couldn't understand what was happening to Dean. The anger that seemed to be bubbling in the under current was spilling onto the surface now and aiming straight at Sam. Dean's anger at their father was understandable, but Sam was convinced that something else was bothering Dean, something that was unconnected to John. Just what exactly it was, the youngest Winchester had no idea.

Dean had called him a burden.

That was no new news there; Sam had always known that Dean had to watch out for him, hence making him a burden. But it was another thing to actually hear the words leave Dean's mouth. In his older brother's defence, he had looked genuinely horrified that he'd said what he did. Maybe it was one of those secret thoughts that wasn't meant to be shared but had just slipped out.

Sam inhaled deeply and considered what Dean had said the night before; that he felt trapped as a hunter. Never being able to catch his breath, never having a chance to do what he wanted to do because he simply wanted to do it.

Being programmed to save the innocents in the world. After all it was their duty to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

_But whose job is it to save us? _Sam thought sadly.

Sighing deeply, Sam rested his head down again on top of his arm. His heart heavy and his sleepy eyes even heavier than before, he could feel himself slowly dropping off to sleep.

* * *

"Man, do I suck!" Dean muttered to himself as he closed the textbook he'd been reading with a heavy thud.

So much for splitting up and covering more ground; he was no further then when Sam had walked out the door this morning. He still had no clue why the Alchemists were after them, and more worryingly, he was no closer to finding out how they could get rid of them…all of them.

Dean stretched his arms above his head and yawned deeply, hoping that Sam was at least a little closer to finding out why the Alchemist 'guilt', had decided to use a doctor's body as its host, and more importantly why that doctor.

Dean scratched his head and climbed off the couch and headed into the kitchen.

The fact that Dr. Andrew Wallis had been dead for over three months before he'd crossed paths with the Winchesters puzzled Dean; not to mention how a dead body had managed to cross several states to track them down.

Dean had often heard of demons possessing human bodies and using them as hosts; he'd bonded with several of them, particularly Meg and Tom who'd been promptly introduced as the Yellow Eyed Demons children. They were all dead now, the innocent hosts included; but that is what confused Dean the most - all the possessions he'd ever known about had had the hosts at least be alive.

Having demons using dead bodies as hosts, well that was something new; and seriously weird.

Dean wrinkled his face in confusion as he stood at the kitchen sink staring into space; what could seriously be achieved by using a dead body?

Zombies? Necromancers..?

Dean shook his head physically removing the ideas, in those situations, the dead in question were what came back, not some demon instead.

Dean sighed loudly.

This was like a friggin puzzle and someone was hiding all the damn pieces. He didn't like the fact that they'd killed a demon without ever knowing what it came for, and if Sam's research was right, which it almost always was, these demons were going to get stronger each time they took another out; which right now spelt that the boys were screwed.

At least to Dean they were.

The elder hunter stuck a glass under the kitchen tap and filled it with water, downed half of it before heading back into the living room to resume research. He hoped that Sam was making more progress than he was. He toyed with the idea of calling his younger brother, but decided to give his little brother a bit more breathing space and to call him later. After all, Sam was probably buried in library books about as frustrated as he was; no point ringing him and adding more pressure.

Dean sunk back onto the sofa and picked up another old textbook.

Pressure was something Sam knew all too well, and it wasn't until right at that moment, did it hit Dean as to exactly how much pressure Sam had actually been under the last couple of weeks. Yes, Dean himself had been lumped under a ridiculous amount of pressure, thanks to their father running out on them, but considering the demon that had been on their tails for the last two weeks and how far gone and under the influence Dean had completely been through their last hunt; it actually dawned on Dean how much Sam had had to go through, by himself.

Usually they had each other.

Usually they bitched, shouted, yelled, called each other a random host of names, and then would bicker and bitch some more; but they at least had each other to vent on.

During the last hunt, Sam had carried the truth of this hunt on his own shoulders, while trying damn hard to protect a brother who had clearly had no idea how much trouble he was actually in. Dean closed his eyes as he thought back to the night at the cliffs, truth was even though he knew he'd been the one to slice Sam up, he had no conscious memory of doing it. He'd just instinctively known that Sam's blood had been shed by his hand; what worried him the most was that Sam had been prepared to die on those cliffs that night on the off chance that he could have saved Dean; that murdering his younger brother would have shocked him enough out of the mind numbing control he'd been under and bring him to his senses.

Sam shouldn't have gone through that. He shouldn't have been left to deal with this whole mess on his own. It was Dean's job to take of Sam, Dean might even admit defeat and agree with Sam that it was their job to protect each other; but it was by no uncertain terms was it Sam's job to protect Dean. No way.

_No wonder he doesn't trust me,_ Dean thought miserably as he opened the old book and stared at the index.

Dean knew he had to try harder, be more patient, cut his tired, little brother some more slack than he was currently receiving, he had to start to realise that Sam was under too much pressure.

And yet, he kept stuffing things up and making Sam feel an inch tall, which was some achievement considering the kids size, and he had no idea why.

He was just angry.

Dean was just so angry at everything.

Angry that Sam had to look after him.

Angry that Sam had died and left him.

Angry that their father had just walked away from his children and never bothered looking back.

Angry that Sam was desperately trying to get back in contact with their father.

Angry that Sam wasn't back to his full fighting, hunter-like self.

Angry that he was scared at the situation he was in with these demons.

And perhaps the most worrying for Dean; angry because he was scared of each and every one of those thoughts he'd previously had.

That's what made him the angriest.

The fact that Dean Winchester was scared.

* * *

"Sammy!"

Sam's head rested lightly on his arm as the voice filtered through into his mind. It was soft, gentle, filled with innocence; but totally familiar.

"Sammy, wake up."

"Let's go play."

Sam's eyes snapped open and he yanked his body up to a sitting position.

He wasn't sure if it was the startled gasp that left his mouth or the speed of which he stood up from the table, that made the only other person at a library station stare at him strangely.

"What the hell?" Sam breathed out as his eyes locked with a young boy in front of him.

The child was no more than 11 years old, his brown hair short, his hazel green eyes smiling at him brightly. The hand he held out to him, hung untouched in the air. The boy wiggled his fingers at Sam, wanting him to take his hand, a bright smile on his beautiful face, the light sprinkling of freckles clear as day.

Sam's breathing hitched as he stared at the boy.

While looking angelic, peaceful, serene even; his lips were blue which made Sam's stomach churn. The blue shorts and green t-shirt the boy stood in dripped with water, pooling around his bare feet.

OK, so the boy's lips were blue, but what was tinged grey? Was there more than one boy there?

The hand he stretched out dripped with water.

"Come, play with me…"

Sam stared at the boy his heart threatening to stop, his mind racing, his stomach churning.

He tore his gaze away for a second as he reached for his cell phone on the table.

Hitting the speed dial, listening as the phone on the other end rang, Sam Winchester looked up again, and watched as the boy flickered and vanished from sight.

Sam's hazel eyes turned to the only other occupant in the library who seemed oblivious to what was happening.

That show had been meant for him.

And only him.

"Pick up your god damn phone!" Sam whispered, his voice shaking frantically as he listened to Dean's voicemail come on.

"You know the drill!" Dean's voicemail sung out.

"Damn it!" Sam hissed, as he cupped the phone to his ear and started stuffing his papers work into bag, "Dean, for god sakes as soon as you get this message, call me back; it's urgent."

His hands fumbled as it stuffed the papers into the backpack, his hands nervously trembled as he shoved his phone into his jeans pocket.

He didn't care how nervous he sounded on Dean's voicemail, he didn't care how wussy he was being; right now all he wanted was Dean, right there in front of him.

He wanted that image he'd just had shoved into his mind re-buried.

Sam Winchester jogged out the library, and as soon as he was clear of the doors, found himself running towards home.

He'd buried that memory. He'd buried that image. He'd buried those blue shorts and green t-shirt to the back of his mind.

He'd buried that god forsaken memory.

Or so Sam thought.

As Sam's feet thumped against the sidewalk, as he sprinted through the streets of Clearwater, his body just wanted to find a corner and cry its eyes out.

He felt like that 7 year old boy all over again.

He felt like that boy that had just sat there and watched his older brother drown..

* * *

**Wishing everyone a happy and safe holiday. Thanks for reading all my stories this year and of course leaving reviews :o) Don't forget to leave a little note after you've finished reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. Until 2008 ! xxx**


	10. Page from the Past

**Hope everyone is having a good start to 2008. Fingers crossed that this strike comes to an end soon and everyone can get back to work and we can get some new episodes for season 3. Thanks so much for all the reviews so far, if you do get a chance to leave me a message at the end of this please do. This is my first attempt at writing wee!chester, so no laughing ! **

**Much love to Carol.**

Chapter 10- Page from the Past

Sam's phone vibrated in his back pocket, and without wasting a second he snatched it from his pocket and flipped it open.

"What's so ur…"

"Where the hell were you? Why didn't you answer your phone?" Sam shouted into the phone. His relief was pouring out in his voice, but it clearly was coming across as anger.

"Dude, chill!" Dean said, his tone obviously defensive, "I wasn't near my phone, I called you back didn't I?"

Sam finally forced himself to stop in the street. It was either that or he was going to pass out, whether it be from sheer relief, or exhaustion.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice cautiously asked, "What's going on, where are you?"

"Just listen to me very carefully, lock all the doors and windows and don't let anyone into the apartment," Sam said in a plain tone, as he began walking, pushing himself to at least close some of the distance between his brother and himself.

"Sam, I'm not five," Dean said with a chuckle, " And you sound like shit, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"One final thing, don't leave the apartment!" Sam said in a no nonsense tone, " I don't care if the place catches fire, or tidal waves come at you from the sea; you stay in that apartment no matter what!"

"Yes sir, sergeant major sir!" Dean chuckled, "Look, I'll follow your orders, but only if you let me in on your plan, cause you're clearly going somewhere with this."

"Are you ok?" Sam suddenly asked, ignoring Dean's question.

"Dude, of course I'm ok, I'm in the apartment, reading one of your freaking ancient texts, so actually I'm not ok, I'm bored rigid here man!" Dean said in a frustration, "Did you find out anything about our demonic buddies?"

"Have you locked the windows Dean, cause I'm not hearing anything locking or closing from here." Sam muttered as he stomped down the street, squeezing his ear into the phone, trying to hear every tiny sound at the apartment.

"You clearly need sleep, and a night out," Dean muttered. "Look, Sam, I get that you're pissed at me for what I said to you this morning, but you…"

"Forget it!" Sam cut through, uninterested in his brother's apology.

"I can't forget it," Dean mumbled. "Look, let me come get you…"

"I said just leave it Dean, and for once in your god damn life, can't you just do something without me asking a million times!?" Sam finally exploded.

"Alright, take a breather man…" Dean muttered as he locked the veranda door loudly, "You hear that? That's me locking the veranda door."

"Good just keep doing it, I'm on my way home," Sam said an edge to his voice. He was just about to cut the connection when Dean's voice came through again.

"Sam."

"Yeah?" Sam responded, his tone managing a note lighter.

"This friggin' sucks here man!" Dean muttered and with that comment, Dean broke the connection.

Sam sighed heavily and continued to walk home, adjusting the weight of the bag on his shoulders.

"I know this sucks Dean," Sam mumbled sadly to himself, "I know it does."

* * *

Sam pushed open the door to their apartment and was immediately greeted by the freezing temperatures of the room. 

Sitting with a face of thunder on the couch with a long sleeved sweater on looking ridiculously cold, Dean's look alone could have killed him.

"Why's it so cold in here?" Sam asked as his skin goose bumped instantly, causing him to shudder.

"Cause, Einstein, you wanted me to lock all the doors and windows, and keeping them open is the only way we've been keep this damn place warm!" Dean seethed. "I can't even feel my hands, and you got me sitting here freezing my ass off while you wonder around outside in the great warm freakin' outdoors!"

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam sincerely said, "I completely forgot about the air conditioning being in revenge mode."

"This had better be good, Sam," Dean said as he nodded at the sofa for Sam to come and sit down; but from the agitation that was clear on Sam's face, there was no way the younger could sit down.

"Look, Dean, I don't know how to explain this…" Sam said as he studied Dean's face from where he was standing, "but something weird is going to happen; something…not good."

"Something not good?" Dean repeated, "Are you kidding me with this? Is that all you're gonna give me?"

"It's all I've got," Sam said simply, his shoulders sinking.

"Liar!" Dean snapped, "Dude I heard your voicemail; you were scared, shit scared, so what the hell happened?"

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but snapped it back shut and began to pace the beach coloured hard wood. He finally stopped and turned to Dean.

"Did you happen to find out why the Alchemists have targeted us?" Sam asked as he looked at his brother, "Any signs at all, explanations as to why us?"

Dean slowly shook his head, "I can't find a thing on why they're after us specifically, but I did find some stuff on what they usually go after, which is where my headache began; because it doesn't fit us."

"How do you mean?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well, for starters, they're demons, and demons usually go after beings with powers, anything to bump them up the demonic food chain." Dean shrugged, " Last time I checked, I got zip to give them and no offence, but I wouldn't think they'd spend all this time tracking you down for your weirdo visions.."

"I agree," Sam said with a heavy sigh, "We're getting nowhere Dean."

"Hey, Sammy, why am I sitting in this apartment, freezing my tail off?" Dean said, his voice growing a notch higher.

Sam stared at Dean for a moment. It was clear that Dean was ok, nothing was going to get Dean, at least not while he was there. Taking a chance, he unlocked the veranda door and stepped into the blazing 88F sunshine which laced Clearwater that day. Sam could already hear Dean jogging to join him on the deck…anything to escape his cold cocoon.

When Dean finally emerged, he was carrying two beers.

"So…" Dean started as he twisted the cap off and drained some of the beer, "You gonna tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to start begging, 'cause I don't do well with begging…"

Sam twisted the cap off his own beer and drained half of it down his throat, to Dean's clear surprise.

"Ok…" Dean said leaning against the railings and staring out at the perfect sea in front of him. "That's not exactly a good sign."

"I don't know what I saw," Sam finally whispered, as Dean swung around, beer swishing over the edge of the bottle and leaking down his hand as he locked eyes with Sam.

"You had a vision?" Dean almost shouted, the horror was clear in his tone and etched like a portrait on his face.

Sam's stomach plunged to his feet.

"I don't know what it was, but," Sam started to say as he dropped wearily into the lounger and closed his eyes, the memory eating a hole into his heart.

"What did you see happen?" Dean demanded coming over now and sitting on the other lounger beside him, "Sam, what's going to happen?"

"It's not going to happen, it happened," Sam finally said, "I got flashbacked, I think, I don't know; but I saw you, and it was that night."

"What night?" Dean asked slowly, his hazel green eyes now filling with worry, "Sam, what night?"

Sam's hazel eyes finally locked with Dean's.

"The night you drowned."

* * *

January 23rd 1989-San Francisco 

"You promised, Dad," whispered the sad, defeated tone of the ten year old that looked up at his father, his green eyes begging and pleading with the ex-marine for some leniency.

"I know Dean, but just this once, ok?" John Winchester said as he knelt down in front of his unhappy eldest son, "I know you want to go to the lake today, but I promise tomorrow we'll spend all day there; tomorrow is your special day."

Dean's face finally softened, "Will you be gone long?"

"No, just to the store," John explained as he stood back up and dusted his knees off from the cheap carpet, "Have to get a certain someone something special."

Dean's face broke into a big grin, "Really?"

"Yes, really," John said, as he glanced at the closed bedroom door, "Now, you be good ok? You watch Sammy and make sure he doesn't stick play-do in the kettle again."

Dean giggled, "That was funny!"

John's eyes narrowed, "Let's just not do that again!"

"Ok, Dad." Dean said as he sat down on the couch and turned the TV on, " Hey Dad, since you're only going to the store, you think if you get back in time I could go down to the lake?"

John looked at the time, it was almost 6pm.

"Ahh son, look, by the time I get back, I want Sammy in bed, so we won't be able to go today, but I promise, ok! Tomorrow, when it's all safe, we'll go together." John explained, "I never break my promise to you kiddo, do I?"

Dean shook his head.

"Good." John said as he quietly opened the bedroom door and closed it silently behind him.

His six year old son was spread out all over the bed, with papers and colouring pens and markers everywhere. It took John a moment not to laugh out loud at the sight. He then watched as Sam cheerfully picked up a pair of scissors and attacked the blue card he held in his hand.

John was quickly at his side.

"Didn't I tell you to not play with scissors by yourself?" John scowled as he took the instrument away.

Sam waved the paper in his face.

"Can't ask Dean," The young boy said as he stood on the bed and plunged the contraption of glitter, stickers and god knows what else at John, "It's for him. You think he'll like it?"

John held the card in his hand and felt a smile pull at his face, he wrapped an arm around his little son's waist and gave him a cuddle,

"I think he'll love it Sammy!" John lied, knowing full well his eldest son would be horrified at the sight of all that glitter.

"So, I'm gonna go to the store…"

"Can I come?" Sam interrupted loudly.

John put a hand gently on his son's mouth, "Shh, we're keeping this a secret from Dean, remember?"

Sam nodded furiously and pulled his head closer to his dad, "Can I come?" Sam whispered, which made John chuckle.

"No, Sammy, you got a secret mission to do for me," John teased, "You got to make sure that Dean doesn't leave this place until I come back."

Sam once again nodded furiously.

"So, what do you want me to get for Dean?" John asked wrapping his arms around the bouncing child on the bed and pulling him into his lap. "Anything you want in particular?"

"Robots," Sam sung, "Doone likes robots!"

"Sammy, I think you like robots," John corrected as his youngest fidgeted in his lap, "How about a racing car, he could drive it around?"

"Ooh!" Sam said, already standing in his father's lap and nodding vigorously, " Yeah, get that!"

"Alright, you be good, and hide all this stuff from your brother," John said picking Sam up playfully and tossing him onto the bed. Fits of giggles exploded around the room.

"You are coming back, right?" Sam asked as he turned around on the bed to look at his father, "'Cause Dean would be real sad if you didn't."

"I promise Sammy," John said as he picked up his wallet from the nightstand and left the bedroom silently.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John Winchester started the Impala engine and sat staring at the motel room he'd just left. His little boys were in there on their own. It broke his heart each and every time he had to leave them…even if it was just to go to the store. He had every intention of going to buy his eldest son a birthday present. If anyone deserved a good birthday, it would be Dean; he couldn't believe his eldest was going to be 11 the next day.

But, being an ingrained hunter, he'd not only come to the lakes for Dean's birthday; he'd come to hunt.

Right on those lakes was a sea hag, and according to cycle, tonight was the final night she came to feed. Four kids had already been drowned in the area, and tonight was the last night of the cycle. John had everything he needed to kill the sea hag, and that's exactly where he planned to go now; and then to the nearest Wal-Mart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

John came through the door quietly; it was just after 9pm and curled up on the couch watching a game show were his sons. Sam was already crawling on top of Dean's lap trying to cover his eyes.

"Sam..!" Dean yelled as his brother's feet trampled all over him.

"Shh, it's a secret!" Sam chimed.

John poked his head out the bedroom door, "He can look now Sammy."

Sam released Dean's face and jumped off the couch and ran into the bedroom, where John was taking off his boots.

"Can I see it?" Sam asked excitedly.

"No, Sammy, you'll see it tomorrow with Dean," John said, running his hand over his youngest soft brown hair. Looking up, he saw Dean standing in the doorway looking suspiciously at him.

"Why are you wet?" Dean asked curiously, "It's not raining."

"Why don't you go watch the rest of your game show?" John said, looking away from Dean and looking quietly at Sam, who was peering in a drawer.

"Sam!" John snapped.

"Oops!" Sam said flashing his father a little dimpled smile.

"Can't I go down to the arcade?" Dean asked, leaning against doorframe. "Just for a little while?"

John studied Dean for a moment, while pulling his youngest away from the drawers and keeping him in front of him.

"I won't be long," Dean said, his eyes pleading.

"Alright, half an hour," John said finally, "and that means exactly thirty minutes. Not thirty minutes you stay in the arcade, thirty minutes for you to be all the way back here."

"Yes sir!" Dean said, already turning to leave the door.

"You only go to the arcade, Dean, nowhere else," John said, tugging Sam along with him as he followed Dean out the room. "I mean it son."

"Yes sir," Dean said, glancing down at his shorts and t-shirt, checking to see if they were at least clean. No point inviting fights from the older kids.

"Alright," John said with a sigh as he opened his wallet and pulled out a bill, "I want change out of that, and don't buy any junk food!"

Dean's face broke into a smile as his dad handed him the ten dollar bill.

"Come Sammy," Dean said holding out his hand, waiting for his little brother.

"Ah, not this time Sammy," John said scooping Sam up and holding him to his chest, " It's time this one found the bath and jammies."

"Sammy jammies!" Sam sung as he looked across at Dean and nuzzled his father's shoulder. "Let's swim, Dean."

"No, let's play," Dean said still holding his hand out to Sam, his eyes now on his father. "Come play with me."

"You want to stay here and help me bathe him, or do you want to go to the arcade?" John said plainly, "Sammy's not coming…Sammy's going to go get a dunk in the bath." John said, pinching Sam's cheeks playfully and then ruefully looking at the marker pens that were streaked all over his youngest hands and face. He sighed as he caught a whiff of him as well, "This kid stinks!"

Dean laughed out loud and John cracked a smile. Sam bucked in his father's arms, laughed loudly and ran into the bathroom.

"Thirty minutes," John said, turning to head towards the bathroom, "It starts now." John hinted with a grin.

"See you later, Dad!" Dean said, already at the door.

"Nowhere else, Dean, I mean it, straight there and straight back," John repeated.

Dean simply rolled his eyes as he spotted Sam waving at him from the bathroom.

"You sure you don't want to play?" Dean teased his younger brother.

"Out!" John yelled, as he sent a smile at his eldest. "Out, now!"

John watched as Dean waved and disappeared from his sight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Daddy, where's Dean?" Sam asked as he climbed the sofa and came and sat beside his agitated father.

"That's a very good question Sammy," John said as he once again eyed the clock.

Sam was now clean and smelling of his father's musky body wash, and John himself had showered and changed out of his wet clothing; and Dean hadn't returned yet.

He was five minutes late. Not something Dean ever did.

John slipped out his seat on the sofa, leaving Sam staring at the TV, and opened the front door, stepped out of the motel and found his eyes searching for his eldest child. He expected to see Dean hurrying towards him, his face filled with apologies.

John felt his stomach churn.

He'd tried to take out the sea-hag, but he hadn't got there in time. The woman had beaten him a few minutes earlier to the kill and claimed her final victim. While John was annoyed that yet another innocent life had been lost, he'd learnt a long time ago not to dwell on the hunts he couldn't do anything about. He'd failed this time, but he'd get her next time. The sea-hag could bet her life on that.

John felt his stomach muscles clench inwardly.

He knew how desperately Dean had wanted to go to the lake. Even though John knew it was now safe for another 365 days, it was dark and Dean was alone in a strange town, and nothing more than a kid.

John glanced at his watch.

He was now ten minutes late.

Turning back into the motel room, he looked over at his youngest son.

"Sammy, grab your shoes!" John said, reaching for his boots; he watched as Sam eagerly bounced off the couch and disappeared into the bedroom. "We're going for a drive."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John's fingers clenched tightly as he gripped the steering wheel to the Impala. He'd already checked at the arcade; sure enough, Dean had been there and left almost half an hour earlier. It was a five minute walk back to the motel. The father had driven back and forth down the routes his eldest could have taken and yet he was coming up empty handed.

He glanced at Sam sitting in the passenger seat beside him; the seatbelt across his son was far too big, but the youngest child's eyes were large and bright. John's stomach churned as he realised that Sam thought that this was an adventure. He had no idea how serious this situation really was.

John turned his attention back to the road and finally headed in the direction he knew he should have gone earlier.

He headed to the lake...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John threw the car into park and scrambled out, glancing back at Sam, who was still struggling with his seat belt. Casting his youngest child a look, he reached inside the Impala, flicked the child lock on and promptly slammed the car shut.

"Daddy!?"

John didn't even turn back. Armed with his automatic and flashlight, he headed towards the lake. He had a clear view of everything, the large lake in front of him, and of course a clear view of the Impala. He had two kids to take care of, and while he didn't want to lock Sam in the car, it was the safest place he could; last thing John needed was for two of his kids to go missing.

"Dean!" John yelled, evenly, loudly.

His eyes scanned the dark area, his flashlight working the overgrowth like a seasoned professional.

"Dean, come on out here son…you're not in any trouble, I promise!" John said, a note of worry creeping in.

Standing a few feet from the edge of the lake, John stared at what had earlier been a furrow of activity with the local police and the residents. He stared at the eerily silent lake.

Where had all the police tape gone?

Surely this place was still a crime scene…a kid had died here just a few hours ago.

John felt his stomach back flip, as his hands darted around with the flashlight.

At least he'd thought a kid had died here.

Panic gripped him instantly.

"Dean!!" John screamed. Any form of control and confidence gone from his voice; he'd been reduced to a frightened father looking for his missing child.

Hearing no response, he glanced a look back at the Impala, saying a silent prayer to whoever was listening, and headed off towards the left side of the lake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Six year old Sam climbed onto the passenger seat and fought to open the doors around the confines of the Impala. He wasn't allowed to stand on the car seats, but he was confused as to why his dad had locked him in the car by himself.

Finally accepting that he couldn't get out, he flopped noisily into the driver's seat and began to play with the steering wheel.

He couldn't wait to be able to drive.

His hands gripping the steering wheel, he knelt on the driver's seat so he could peer over the dashboard. His hazel eyes stared into the blackness. His little fingers fiddled with the controls his father always played with, and lights suddenly flooded the ground in front of him.

"Yes!" Sam said gleefully as he stared out at the lake in front of him.

His hazel eyes stared at the lake and slowly grew wide.

Several feet away trying to run towards the car was Dean.

Sam stared at his brother.

He didn't look happy, he was scared and screaming.

"Dean!" Sam yelled in the car as he finally saw what had scared Dean so much. A woman, a woman with crazy hair and weird clothes and she was walking from the lake.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, his feet jumping frantically on the seat, his hands banging manically at the windshield.

All he could do was watch.

Watch as the old lady dragged Dean kicking and screaming into the lake, yanking him by his ankles.

Sam watched as his elder brother disappeared from the surface.

Screaming frantically, yelling, his little hands banging on the windshield, the window anything to help him get out of the car, when finally his hands fell on the horn and the ear splitting noise alone sent the frightened youngster silent in the car.

Within a second he was back on his feet frantically leaning on the steering wheel. His face wet with tears, his eyes straining to stare into the lake, his sobbing drowning out the sound of the horn; all Sam could do was hope that his daddy could save Dean.

Because he knew he couldn't...

* * *

Present day

"You got any idea what happened next?" Sam whispered as he shivered outwardly, despite sitting in the warm sunshine.

Dean scowled at Sam and took another sip of his beer. Realising he wasn't getting any more from Sam, he finally spoke.

"No, Sam, I don't remember anything of that night," Dean muttered. "That tends to happen when you spend most of it unconscious."

"Dad heard my banging and realised what was happening," Sam explained, "He dragged you out, but you'd been under for such a long time..."

Dean rolled his eyes and shot Sam a look.

"Dude, that was a real long time ago, we were just kids. You in this case, were a very noisy kid that liked to abuse car horns."

"Even when dad got you breathing again he wouldn't let you go..." Sam said quietly, "He drove us back to the motel, and didn't let go of you once."

"Sam, is there a point to this trip down disastrous memory lane?" Dean asked curiously, "'Cause I got things I need to be doing."

"I cried the whole way home that night, cried all night long," Sam said, shaking his head, "I remember Dad cried too."

"Dad? Our dad, Mr Marine?" Dean asked with a chuckle as he stood up from his seat, "Yeah, right!"

"We all slept in Dad's bed that night, you right in the middle," Sam said a wistful look on his face, "Dad had you in his arms, he never let you go Dean, not once."

"You seriously need sleep, or a life..." Dean mumbled, "Sam, you got me locked up in an icebox to take me down memory lane to remind me of an experience I have no memory too."

This time it was Sam's turn to look at him funny.

"You don't remember any of that?" Sam asked in surprise, "None at all?"

"Ok, I remember bits and pieces, like going to the arcade and then going to the lakes." Dean admitted, "Then it's blank. Next thing I can remember was waking up sandwiched between you and dad and wondering what on earth happened."

"What had happened was that you drowned and Dad saved your life!" Sam said, "It took Dad a while to get over that one…I remembered we actually stayed in that motel for quite a while."

"Also got the best damn birthday cake ever!" Dean said, grinning at the memory, " Also remember you broke the remote to my car dad got me."

"No I didn't, you sat on it!" Sam said heatedly as he looked at Dean and saw his brother's smile beaming down at him.

Sam finally sighed.

"I don't know what was the point of that memory Dean, but I swear to you it wasn't just me sitting down in the library and thinking this one up," Sam said, a note of desperation in his voice. Dean noticed it and quietly sat back down. "Yes, I admit I was tired and put my head down for a second on the desk, but I heard someone calling my name, and I knew it was you, you just sounded younger."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it again when Sam continued talking.

"I looked up and there you were, standing in front of me, just like you were the night at the lake, only you were dripping wet and…" Sam said, physically shuddering, as Dean slowly stood back up.

"Dead?" Dean finished for him.

"You were dripping wet and your lips were blue," Sam admitted, "I just freaked out then and there."

"Hence the manic voicemail," Dean said with a nod as he opened the veranda sliding door and walked back into the living room, Sam quickly following him.

"Any ideas?" Sam asked as he lent against the glass door chewing on his bottom lip nervously, "'Cause I don't know about you, but I think this isn't exactly a good thing."

"I don't know when seeing me dead was ever a good thing, but this time round…" Dean said as he flopped down on the couch, "I think you need some sleep and some food."

Sam's mouth dropped open.

"You think I'm hallucinating?" Sam snapped, "Is that it?"

"I don't know what to think," Dean admitted, "I do believe you, Sam, but I also know that you've been under way too much pressure the last few weeks."

"I'm fine," Sam mumbled as he walked through the living room and stalked into the kitchen.

"Sam, do you even realise that you were in a serious car accident five weeks ago?" Dean challenged, "Something you died from. Now somehow you came back, but that doesn't mean your injuries went away."

Dean listened to the silence coming from the kitchen; he knew Sam was listening and probably agreeing with him inwardly, but naturally, Sam would never give in to Dean without a fight. Dean rose to his feet.

It was time for the older brother to reclaim his position. Time for Dean to stop being the protected and resume being the protector.

"You need to slow down Sam…the doctor said with your head injury and everything else that happened in the crash, you needed to take things easy," Dean said as he walked to the kitchen entrance and stood in front of it, blocking Sam's path if he tried to escape.

"Like I keep saying, Dean, I'm ok," Sam said, sucking in a breath as he turned to face the sink and leant on it, staring out the window.

"Look, there isn't a day I don't blame myself for dragging you out of that hospital and taking off with you; I probably made the situation about ten times worse," Dean said with a heavy sigh.

"You did what you thought was right, I would never hold that against you," Sam said, finally looking up at Dean, "I just wish you'd friggin' told me everything from the start."

Dean felt that comment sting his cheeks.

"I know I shouldn't have kept everything from you, but what can I say, I was trying to protect you," Dean said with a shake of his head, "I can't control that anymore, but I can control what happens from now on, and you're going to take care of yourself, even if I have to nail you down to a bed to do so."

"The Alchemists won't disappear on their own," Sam countered, "You need me to help get rid of them."

Dean studied the stubborn look on Sam's face. There was no way Sam was backing down on this statement.

"You've been through too much Sam, from the crash and then straight into the Alchemist demon," Dean said with a stubborn tone of his own, "Maybe what you saw today was exhaustion."

Sam's eyes narrowed, "Or maybe what I saw was a warning."

Dean chuckled, "You saw me as a kid, something that happened way back in time."

"And it could have been a warning. I always get these visions when something bad is about to happen to people I'm supposed to save," Sam countered, "Maybe I saw this because I have to stop you from drowning."

Dean stared at Sam's stubborn bitchface.

"Sammy, all your visions are always connected to the Yellow Eyed freak," Dean reminded, "How on earth is a memory of you being six years old, anything to do with visions?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer back, but realised he had no answer to that question, so he did what Sam did best; be friggin stubborn.

"I saw it for a reason, and I think something is going on here, Dean. It's no coincidence that we're looking into the remaining Alchemists and I'm now having visions of you drowning," Sam said simply, "Even you have to admit that…"

"Sammy, just leave this topic ok?" Dean finally said with a heavy sigh, "Right now, I don't care about the Alchemists, about Fear, or Anger and the other stupid one…"

"Inhibitions," Sam inserted.

"Yeah, and that one," Dean said with a nod, "I care about getting you well and back on your feet."

"I'm standing on my feet," Sam said stubbornly, "Dean, there is no way I'm backing off, no way in hell."

Dean rubbed his face in annoyance.

"How did you get so stubborn?" Dean finally asked with a frustrated shake of his head.

A small smile played on Sam's lip, "I learnt from the best."

Dean felt a smile of his own appearing on his face, as he watched as Sam brushed past him and headed into the living room.

He couldn't quiet put his finger on it himself, but he had a sinking feeling that Sam was right. It was just too much of a coincidence that Sam would 'see' his younger self drown. Sam was right…it had to be a warning.

Dean chewed his bottom lip as a pang of worry began running through his stomach, which was developing a very tight knot.

Sam was going to have to save Dean again.

That didn't sit too comfortably with the older brother.

Not one little bit….

* * *

**Thanks for reading; I hope you're still enjoying the story. Don't forget to leave a review; it's the only way I know what you guys are thinking. Xxxx**


	11. Incoming

**Thanks for the reviews to those who sent and to those who have added me to their alerts. It's always great to hear from you and to read words of encouragment; makes you actually want to write. Great that the writers strike has finally ended so we can hopefully now get some episodes before this season ends. Thanks to those are still reading. Hugs to Carol as always.**

**Chapter Eleven**

Sam glanced up at Dean, opened his mouth to say something and then promptly shut it again. He'd done that over half a dozen times in less than an hour and it was getting on his last nerves. He didn't know what was wrong with him, usually, between Dean and himself they could at least figure something out with these questions that hung bizarrely in the air. However this time, they were coming up with nothing; and it was driving Sam mad.

However, judging from Dean's frustrated groan as he closed yet another book, it looked like patience was working on his final nerve as well.

"This is ridiculous!" Dean finally spat, "How, can we have nothing…we've been digging for hours and we haven't even got a sniff at anything yet."

"I don't know," Sam admitted as he stood from his chair and stretched his long frame, "Maybe we're doing something wrong."

"I think that's a given Sammy," Dean said with a snort, which earned him a scowl from Sam.

"What do they want?" Sam asked out loud, "I mean why us, we have nothing to offer them, it's like you said…they could do a lot better than my visions and you got squat to offer."

It was Dean's turn to scowl at him.

"Well forget the whole, why us, cry," Dean said standing up himself now and walking towards the kitchen, "How do we find them, I mean we can kill them, but no point being able to do that if we can't track them."

Sam studied Dean's words and finally looked over at his brother.

"Or maybe we shouldn't be looking at any of those things," Sam said, a smile filtering onto his handsome face.

Dean watched as those dimples of his appeared; Sam was onto something.

"What are you thinking?" Dean eagerly asked, "Where do you think we're going wrong?"

"It's just an idea, but something you said earlier just got me thinking," Sam said, sitting down now on the couch. "Wallis, you told me he died in California, right?"

"Yup, according to what I found out, he died like three months ago in a car crash on his way home from work," Dean said with nod, "He wasn't married, and he has no kids."

"And then suddenly he turns up at the hospital, posing as a doctor and ends up looking after you," Sam nodded, "And nobody questions where this doctor came from."

Dean considered Sam's words, his own face screwing up in confusion, "It is a bit weird that an entire hospital department would just take him in, and not notice he hadn't been working with them before."

"Could you check into that?" Sam asked, suddenly clambering to his feet and walking towards his room, "Find out when he got to the hospital in Chicago, where he worked, former patients…everything you can find on him."

Dean followed Sam into his room, "And humor me and tell me what you'll be doing?"

Sam was looking around his room for something…unable to see whatever he was looking for, he looked at Dean.

"I thought of something that may just get this ball rolling on how to find these Alchemists."

"That's great," Dean muttered sarcastically, "You want to fill me in on that theory?"

"Not yet, I want to see what you find, besides, you may figure it out yourself," Sam said flashing him a smile, "I'll have my cell, call me if you find anything interesting."

Dean pouted as Sam disappeared out the veranda and vanished along the beach.

So much for Dean taking charge…

* * *

Sam pushed the door to the diner open and, sure enough, sitting behind the counter was the owner Paula. She glanced up at him and smiled.

"Howdy there, Sam, anything I can get you?" She said with a warm smile as she put her newspaper down and studied him, "Haven't seen Dean around, how's he keeping?"

Sam managed to smile.

It was all he managed to do as the wheels in his head begun to spin violently.

"I wouldn't mind a couple coffees and some pastries to take away," Sam said eventually, after kicking his mouth into gear. He took a moment to study the dead diner and fiddled nervously with his menu.

"It sure is a shame about Dr. Wallis isn't it?" Sam asked, very cautiously, slowly raising his eyes and tracking the older woman's movements behind the counter.

Paula sighed heavily and Sam listened even more intently, "Such a good man, all those people he helped here right in Clearwater?"

"Yeah, it's just sad," Sam said, keeping his voice steady and watching her movements as the owner filled the coffee cups. "Erm, any news on how he died?"

Paula looked up at him instantly, spilling coffee on the counter. Sam stayed where he was, his hand brushing against the knife he had in his back pocket.

"Why Sam, where have you been?" Paula asked as she mopped up the coffee with her cloth, "It's all over the place."

"I haven't heard anything yet," Sam said simply, "So how did he die?"

"He was shot, so many gunshots were in that poor, poor man!" Paula explained, with a sad shake of her head as she placed the cups in front of him. Proceeding over to the little stand which held the fresh, sticky pastries, she selected several of the best and placed them in two bags for Sam.

"Police can't understand why someone would shoot a guy like that," Paula added with a sniff, "It's just so sad, this place, this world we live in now, it's like evil is taking it over."

Sam nodded his head as she placed the brown bags in front of him.

"That's exactly what I was just thinking," Sam mumbled as he dropped a twenty on the counter and walked out the diner with a shiver running down his spine.

Standing on the sidewalk in the blazing October heat, Sam fished out his phone, and proceeded to call Dean; his elder brother needed to hear this theory.

* * *

"Your spidey senses must be on high alert," Dean chuckled, "I was just going to call you."

"Where are you?" Sam asked, as he hurried down the sidewalk, "I'm heading home."

"Well, I'll meet you back there later," Dean said, as he jogged down the steps he was standing on and proceeded across the road, "Dude you won't believe what I've found out"

"Shoot, 'cause what I got to tell you ain't going to sound great either," Sam admitted, "How long you going to be?"

"A while, why?" Dean asked as he opened the Impala and climbed in, cursing to himself that the classic car hadn't been modified for air conditioning, yet.

"Well this can't wait," Sam said finally, "I just took a trip down to the diner."

"That's great, something that good on the menu?" Dean asked, a little confused.

"Don't be silly, it's the staff, or should I say the owner," Sam said with a sigh, "I don't know why I didn't pick up on it sooner."

"Dude, I'm still in the dark here!" Dean said as he rested his head against the head rest and closed his eyes.

"When I went in there this morning, she was so cut up about Wallis, I just thought she knew the man and was upset because he was found dead," Sam explained, as he rounded the corner and headed for the apartment.

"So?" Dean asked in confusion, "It's not supernatural for a woman to be mourning when someone they know dies."

"That's just my point Dean," Sam said with a frustrated sigh, "Why would she know him, how on earth could she know about this doctor?"

Dean was silent for a moment.

"Dean?" Sam asked, as he jogged up the steps to his latest home and shoved his key inside the door, "You still there?"

"You think she's an Alchemist?" Dean finally asked.

"No," Sam said as he pushed open the door and headed into the apartment, and straight for the kitchen, "But, I think she _thinks_ she knew this doctor."

"You've totally lost me," Dean groaned.

"Which brings me to my next point," Sam continued.

"Next point?" Dean blurted out, "Dude, I didn't even understand the first one."

"I went down to the morgue, to take a look at Wallis' body," Sam said, placing the cups carefully on the counter and dumping the brown bags, "The body was gone."

"Well, it didn't just walk off did it?" Dean said, excitement in his voice, "Wait, it didn't just walk off, tell me it didn't walk off."

"I don't know, all I do know is that the assistant put a body in there the night before, and had filed all the paperwork, and then the next morning, the body vanishes," Sam said as he wriggled one of the coffee's out of the holders and headed to the couch, armed with one of the paper bags.

"That's beyond a coincidence now," Dean admitted, "And this might have something to do with it."

"Yeah, where exactly are you?" Sam asked as he took a sip of coffee, waiting for an answer from his brother.

"I went to follow something up about Wallis and I think what I found may tie in with your diner owner thinking she knew him," Dean said as he started the Impala's engine, "I was searching for his employment records."

"Right, what did you find?" Sam asked as he searched around in the brown bag, wondering what pastry the owner had placed in the bag.

"That apparently he was working right here in Clearwater," Dean said, as a beep sounded in his ear.

"He was working in Clearwater?" Sam echoed, "How is that…"

"Hold on Sam, got another call coming through," Dean said as he pulled the phone away from his ear and stared down at the display.

The name on the front made his heart skip a beat so violently in his chest that he dropped the phone.

Dean switched the engine off to the car and searched for the phone, finding it under his seat.

Sam had ended his connection.

The other person, however, continued to call.

Dean stared at the phone, unsure of what to do.

It was his father.

* * *

"Huh?" Sam muttered with a sniff. He ended his phone call to his older brother, tossed the phone onto the couch beside him and proceeded to bite into the gooey, sticky, sweet mass.

"Yum," Sam mumbled to himself as he allowed his head to loll back against the couch, his food starved body glorying in the sugary substance. Considering he hadn't eaten anything in ages, this sticky bun crowned with sugar seemed to boost his flagging energy levels. Frankly, Sam could have been eating a bar of soap and it would have tasted divine…it was just the sheer delight of being able to eat something without being hounded by Dean.

Reluctantly, the younger Winchester finally opened his eyes, sat his half eaten bun down on the paper bag and reached for his coffee. He'd just taken a sip when he heard his cell ringing; instantly, he snatched it up and put it against his ear.

* * *

Dean Winchester stared at his ringing phone. He wanted nothing more than to roll down the window and fling the offensive object straight outside.

…_just ignore it…_

Dean, however, continued to stare at the phone.

…_..Don't give him the satisfaction of answering, you don't owe him anything, he left you. He can't just breeze in and out of your life and expect things to be ok……_

Dean's finger, however, hovered over the accept button when the phone stopped ringing.

"He's gonna be so mad!" Dean muttered to himself as he sighed heavily and started to toss the phone onto the passenger seat.

However, the cell phone started ringing again.

Again he picked it up. The caller's name hadn't changed.

…_.Just ignore it, yeah he'll be worried and angry, but so what..? Let him worry. He shouldn't have left us to fight this on our own. It's all his fault, everything that is happening is his fault…_

Dean shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts away. Finally, he hit accept.

"Dean?" John's voice exploded over the other end. It was mixed in anger and relief. "Why won't you answer my calls, where are you, why are you in Florida, get yourself to New York!"

Dean listened to his father's angry tone…the fire in his voice.

He couldn't listen anymore and, without uttering a word, hung up on the eldest of the Winchesters.

Dean once again rested his head against the back of the seat, his heart breaking a tiny piece at a time. All that anger, all that hatred John's voice had held…his commands demanding to be met. Dean sighed heavily, not once had the ex-marine asked how they were or if they were ok. He hadn't even asked about Sam.

Sam had been right all along; John Winchester cared more about the hunt than he did about his children, it had just taken Dean a little longer to see it.

And now it was breaking his heart.

* * *

"Bobby!" Sam said happily, "It's great to hear from you."

There was a long and heavy sigh on the other end followed by a dry chuckle.

"Sam, you got no idea how good it is to hear your voice," Bobby said, the relief in his voice was clear, "How are you, kid?"

"I'm doing good," Sam lied, as he took another sip of his coffee.

"And Dean, he's keeping out of trouble?" Bobby teased, "I know what that boy's like."

"He's fine, Bobby…doing great also," Sam said, a natural smile on his face as he played with the hem on his t-shirt, "I'm glad you called, actually, I was going to call you tonight to pick your brains about a hunt."

"A hunt?" Bobby exclaimed, "Sam, should you boys even be hunting? You're not in any condition to be going on any hunts!"

Sam wrinkled his face at that comment and then chuckled.

"Well, this hunt kind of found us, actually…and now it has, we can't just ignore it," Sam admitted, "Could do with your thinking cap though."

"I could come to you, I guess," Bobby said, thoughts clearly far away now.

"You don't have to worry about that, yet…just after some information," Sam quickly said as he took another sip of the coffee.

"What do you need to know?" Bobby asked, as Sam heard a chair scrapping in the background.

Sam couldn't help but smile.

"What do you know about Alchemists?" Sam asked nervously.

"Alchemists? I know a lot, Sam…why?" Bobby asked, sounding confused, "You boys tracking these things down?"

"You could put it that way," Sam said with a nervous chuckle, "So, besides being demons, what exactly do they want from their victims?"

"What demons always want…power," Bobby said simply, "You see, Alchemists are like demonic pit-bulls; once they set their sights, they're hard to shake off."

"The whole killing one makes the remaining stronger; is that true?" Sam asked, worry slowly creeping into his voice.

"According to lore it is, it's also very accurate," Bobby explained, "These demons are spiritual emotions, ones that every human possesses, ones that are normally manageable; but, given the right manipulation, they can turn anyone to their mercy."

_...great, just friggin great..._

"What if you've managed to kill one of them already?" Sam asked, a worried look beginning to appear on his face, "Would you still be able to take all three out?"

"Well, it's all hearsay, Sam. According to lore, these critters are difficult sons of bitches to kill separately…the best way to do it is to kill all four of them at once." Bobby explained, "Remind me how this has to do with you?"

Sam sighed at that question, "Like I said, Bobby, we're just looking into something."

"Is there anything else?" Bobby asked slowly, drawing the sentence out. He could hear something was clearly wrong with Sam's tone, "Anything else you want to ask me?"

"The possession of the bodies, why would they pick people who are already dead?" Sam asked quietly, "Do they kill the person and then just use the body until they're done with it?"

"Hardly!" Bobby snorted, "They pick on particular people, usually evil individuals, ones who represent the darkness in all human nature."

"Like a deadly sin?" Sam asked.

"Very similar…these demons usually contribute to the deaths of these individuals and then feed off particular emotions," Bobby explained, "It helps boost their individual powers."

"But, if they're feeding off these already dead people, why are they targeting innocent people afterwards?" Sam asked, "Why can't they just keep using the so-called evil individual's bodies they've taken?"

"'Cause it just doesn't work like that. They're only using the bodies as a power boost, what they want…_need_, is the victim's power," Bobby explained.

"But, if you know this person they've gone after has no power, none whatsoever, what would be the point of that?" Sam worriedly asked.

"Sam, there would always be a point…these guys are not idiots, they know what they're doing, and they rarely screw up."

…_.That's all I need to hear…._

"Sam, where are you? Let me come and get you and Dean," Bobby finally said, "You know your father left me in charge of you kids and you just took off."

Sam winced at that thought; if Bobby only knew the truth of why they'd really left.

"Bobby, really, it's fine; we're doing ok, honestly," Sam lied, sighing inwardly at how easy it was to lie to the older hunter, "But, I'll call if we run into more trouble."

"You boys make sure you do. I'm just a phone call away…remember that," Bobby said a heavy note in his tone, "And Sammy?"

"Yeah?" Sam said hesitantly.

"You boys look out for each other!" Bobby said simply as he cut the connection.

Sam pulled the phone slowly from his ear and dropped it onto the couch.

"We always do," Sam whispered to the empty room.

* * *

Dean Winchester jumped as the door to the 67 Impala suddenly opened. As he looked over at his new passenger, the blond shot him a mischievous smile.

"Thought I recognised the car," Lydia said brightly.

Dean stared at her in disbelief, "Do you always open random peoples' cars and climb in?"

"Only the ones I trust," Lydia said with a smile.

Dean grunted in response, now turning his attention back to the road in front. He pushed the car keys into the ignition and started the powerful engine.

"Look, I got places to be," Dean said pointedly.

"What's the matter Dean, you don't call me, you don't text me," Lydia teased as she reached over and stroked his arm, "Anyone would think you were going off a gal."

"Listen, like I said, I'm busy at the moment…got some things to do," Dean said as he nodded towards the passenger door, "Maybe another day, ok?"

"Something to do with that brother of yours?" Lydia muttered, folding her arms across her chest in annoyance, "You know what, Dean, why do you always let him control your life? He's nothing but a constant distraction!"

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Actually, it's nothing to do with Sam."

"Everything is always to do with Sam," Lydia muttered, "Anyone would think that you were handcuffed to him."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Dean spat in anger, he wasn't in the mood for this conversation and his patience was wearing thin already.

Lydia smiled seductively at Dean, "I know you'd rather come out with me and play."

Dean sighed loudly in annoyance, "Listen, I'm trying real hard not to be rude, but lady you're leaving me no choice here."

Lydia reached forwards and pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing the older Winchester.

"I can feel your stress from here," Lydia murmured, "You long to be free."

"You're nuts," Dean mumbled, brushing her hand away, "Get out of my car…now!"

"Don't you want to taste freedom, Dean? Don't you long to shed your responsibility of always being the oldest…always having to take care of little brother Sammy?" Lydia said.

Dean's eyes slowly turned to her; there was a hypnotic note to her voice that seemed to be pulling Dean towards her.

"**Stay with me."**

Dean listened to the tone, its notes washing over his whole body.

"**Stay with me."**

Dean's cell phone rang loudly, causing the occupants of the car to jump.

Blinking several times, Dean finally shook his head and grabbed the phone in his lap.

"Where are you Dean?" Sam's voice asked over the line.

"He's checking up on you again," Lydia whispered in his ear, "Controlling your movements."

"What's it to do with you?" Dean angrily asked, "Guy can't take five minutes to himself?"

"Sorry," Sam said quietly, the hurt clear in his voice, "I was just wondering where you were, that's all."

"Well stop with the friggin' inquisition, ok?" Dean muttered, "You're not my keeper."

"Alright, I get it Dean, take it easy," Sam said, confused. He decided to get off the topic with his older brother, "So, who was it on your phone earlier?"

Dean thought about the answer and decided not to lie this time round.

"It was dad," Dean finally said.

There was silence on Sam's end.

"You still there?" Dean asked, "Sam?"

"Dad called you?" Sam asked, the hurt now heightened in his voice.

"Yeah, he did," Dean said, "But..."

Dean looked over at Lydia as she snatched the phone from Dean in annoyance, and hit the red button.

"Blah blah blah, blah blah," Lydia muttered, "I'm telling you something, you guys are way too much like hard work."

Dean looked over at her, anger on his face.

"Give me my phone, now!" Dean shouted at her.

"Doesn't work on the likes of me sweetheart," Lydia said as she stuffed the phone into her purse and climbed out the car. Dean switched the engine off and promptly followed.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time," Dean shouted as he marched around the front of the car towards her, "Or I swear to god..."

"God? Now, tell me Dean," Lydia said as he leaned close to his face, "What exactly are you and God going to do?"

Dean stared at her, his mouth slightly wide in shock.

"**Let's go, Dean..."**

Dean felt his legs ignore every ounce of sense he had and turned and followed the blond who disappeared walking down the street.

"Where are we going?" Dean finally asked.

He could hear the lightness in his own voice.

Something was defiantly wrong with him, but the harder he tried to concentrate on what was going wrong, the less he remembered about the actual problem.

He felt a hand slip into his.

Dean stared at the empty space beside him, and watched as Lydia's eyes reappeared.

He felt her hand pulling him like a wayward child down the busy street.

And no matter how hard he wanted to pull away, he couldn't.

"Who are you?" Dean managed to asked, the confusion growing at ridiculous speed inside his mind.

The eyes smiled at him, an orange color, so deep, so intense it made Dean's hair rise on the back on his neck.

"**I'm going to give you what you've always wanted..."**

"You can't do this," Dean whispered. He wanted to scream from the bottom of his lungs. He hated that he sounded this weak, this defenseless, this useless.

"**It's time we had a little fun, Dean,"** Lydia said, reforming into the blond by Dean's side, **"And I'm going to show you how to have fun."**

"Tell me where we're going." Dean said, his voice holding a note of determination.

Lydia rolled her eyes at him, and then smiled. **"The lake."**

* * *

**Thanks for reading, hope you are all still enjoying. Please leave a review if you a get a chance, it does help boost the old confidence.**


	12. Losing my Inhibitions

**Hey gang, firstly thank you all so much for the reviews and of course to those lurkers who are reading, and of course those lovely people who added me to author/story alert, that was so nice of you :o) It's a great compliment, and I'll tell you this, it's got my momentum up with this story now; I actually want to finish it, so thanks for building back my confidence. I know I'm evil with what I'm doing to the boys and the secrets and all, but it wouldn't really be me if I didn't throw in some chaos for them now would it ?**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, an if you do get a chance please do leave a review, I'll send cookies, you can choose the flavour :o)**

**Chapter 12-Losing my Inhibitions**

"He hung up on me..." Sam said in disbelief as he stared at his phone, "He freakin' well hung up on me!"

Annoyed, Sam tossed his phone onto the couch and stared at it angrily.

How dare Dean just hang up on him like that, especially with that friggin' attitude? He had no right to scream at him like that no matter how angry he was, and how dare he take his anger out on him. All Sam did was call to see how he was.

Son of a bitch!

Stewing in his own bitterness, the conversation between his brother and himself quickly replayed in his head and he felt a tightness dance over his heart. He could barely believe what Dean had said; that dad had called.

A heavy feeling weighed on his heart.

That just didn't feel right.

John calling Dean.

Sam had been the one to call their father, explaining to him what was going on in his messages.

Sam was the one who had asked their father to contact him, knowing how angry Dean was with their father.

Sam had been the one to go against everything Dean had told him about John walking away from them and leaving them alone to die in a hospital bed, and yet he'd forgiven him, swallowed his pride and called their father for help.

Dean hadn't done any of that.

Dean had just sat their dwelling in his own anger unable to see past his own rage.

Sam hadn't.

Sam had been open enough to believe that their father had a reason, and a damn good one at that, for leaving them by themselves at a time when they had needed their father the most.

Sam had ignored that their father had left him for dead and just walked away, not caring whether or not he lived or died.

Sam had been the one to turn to their father and make the first move of contact despite everything that had happened between them.

And dad had called Dean.

Sam sighed heavily.

That felt like a slap in the face...

* * *

Dean was singing.

Like manic singing.

He scowled at his own stupidity, but at the same time laughed loudly…the kind of laugh that came from his belly and made the edges of his eyes crinkle. The kind of laugh that made him feel good, relaxed and happy, perhaps even safe.

He stared out at the scene in front of him.

The beautiful trees all around him, the warm sunshine beating down on his skin. He raised his face skywards and felt a huge grin appear on his face. He felt the rays dance along his skin, warming his cheeks and filling him internally with a sense of happiness he had never before felt.

His legs however, kept him moving.

He moved hypnotically along the dirt track, disappearing further and further into the forest.

He listened to the birds whistling, the rustling of the leaves; the rushing sound of water.

He hadn't felt like this since he had been a child. Before the nightmares, before the silence, before the anger, before the hunting. He just felt peace, contentment and the ability to do what he wanted when he wanted.

Dean finally stopped and swung himself in a wide circle, yelling loudly at the top of his lungs and laughing, his arms spinning wide with him.

Dean Winchester had never experienced anything like this.

This freedom.

He'd felt like every weight in his world had been removed. He knew they were there, everything to do with his own messed up life and his family. His brother's life, his father's life, their hunting, their salt and burns, their little devil traps. They were all still in his head.

Just right now, they didn't even enter his mind.

He knew it wasn't normal though.

This feeling, this sensation coursing through his body, rambling through his mind.

He felt high as a kite, like he was in a different world, one without evil, one without hurt and one without sorrow.

One without annoying pain in the ass little brothers.

But Dean knew they existed.

That both those things, that everything that usually plagued him existed.

And yet at this moment in time, he didn't give a damn.

And that's what worried him, gnawed at him. He knew he should be worried, be troubled over the lack of control over his own feelings and body.

But the sense of freedom was just too alluring.

So Dean followed the path.

* * *

Sam Winchester glanced around the apartment, his eyes falling on the veranda glass doors, his focus now on the sunshine and warmth that lay beyond the doors. He got to his feet, opened the door and stepped out onto the wooden deck, staring out at the ocean that hypnotically lapped against the white sand in the distance.

If Sam had his own way, he'd stay here forever. The warmth and comfort he felt in the sunshine, the smile it automatically brought to his face. He always loved the beach, there was nothing methodical about his love for the place, after all, it was just a pile of sand and some water; but it always made him feel…well, good.

A smile wriggled onto his face as he leaned against the railings. It was Dean who had brought them to Clearwater, so as different as they were as brothers, the love of the beach was obviously shared by both of them. Thoughts of Dean however made him sad, he couldn't understand why Dean had blown up at him like that, and truth was it stung at his cheeks that Dean could be that cold to him. Dean was many things, hot headed, rash and sometimes a little reckless if truth was told, but callous weren't one of them. It was almost as if something had put Dean into that mood, and for something to cause that effect on him, it was obviously pushing all the buttons to piss Dean off.

Dean had been normal with him on the phone before the phone call by their father, and yes, ok Dean had been angry with Sam for originally calling their dad, but he knew that deep down, his brother understood why he had done it, they were in way over their heads and this so called hunt they were on was bigger than both Dean and himself put together. After all, with Bobby's wise words still ringing in his ears, Sam had to consider the option that maybe he would have to tell Bobby everything, if their father never came to their aid. That was a conversation that Sam was not looking forward to having with the older hunter, but Sam knew he needed help. It was hard enough trying to take care of himself without these demonic spirits messing with his mind, but he knew deep down he wasn't capable of being able to take care of Dean as well. The last time there had only been one of them, and now, now there were three of them, and he was weakened physically and emotionally he wasn't holding up too well.

And judging from Dean's latest outburst, his older brother wasn't fairing much better.

His older brother was just so messed up at the moment, what with the lying and secrets and, of course, the guilt of doing what he had done to Sam in the first place; and now with this frantically growing hatred for their father, Sam was finding himself on his own.

Sam was struggling also, only he couldn't tell Dean. He couldn't tell Dean about the exhaustion that was over taking him, the pains in his limbs, the headaches and sleepless nights, the nightmares from the crash, from being back at the cabin.

Sam's head hung down sadly against his chest.

Their relationship as a family had hit rock bottom and it was hard for him to admit it. Dean glossed over the problem by saying that what had happened to them both was just another day at the office; but it wasn't. Dean was dealing with something Sam didn't understand and never ever wanted to understand; losing his brother. Dean had watched Sam die, and the younger Winchester struggled to understand how hard that was for Dean, however when he tried to imagine Dean dying, it caused a knot in his stomach that made him physically shake. Then there was the lies, and of course logically, it made sense to Sam why Dean had done what he did at the hospital, but why the lies about their father being there. Why hadn't he just told the truth? And then there was the scene at the cliff. Sam shuddered physically at the memory, the days Dean had spent drugging him, leaving him useless to fight this spirit off.

Sam's head snapped upright as a thought slammed into his head.

The drugs.

The tablets.

Why the hell hadn't he thought of that before?

He hurried back into the apartment and snatched his phone up, hunted for the phone number in his listings and hit call.

"Sam, two calls in one day, I can see no goods going to come out of this conversation," Bobby's gruff tone said over the phone, "More Alchemist stuff?"

"Something like that," Sam said pacing the beach floor as he spoke, " These Alchemists, they're at their weakest when there are four of them, right ?"

Bobby snorted on the other end, "If you can call it that Sam, but yeah, they get stronger as their number decreases. Their powers are re-divided between the remaining ones."

"Has it been known for Alchemists to use, I don't know, blockers, suppressants?" Sam asked as he fidgeted on the spot where he stood, "Any chance they'd try and sneak up on someone like that?"

Bobby was quiet over the phone; Sam could hear him rubbing his hands over his beard as he considered the question Sam had asked.

"Sam what on earth's going on?" Bobby finally asked.

Sam sighed loudly.

"Bobby I could really do with an answer here," Sam asked, impatiently.

"I don't understand what you're asking me, I mean where would a demon get drugs from to feed to a victim?" Bobby asked with a shake of his head, "Only thing I can think of is that it was using it as a distraction."

"Bobby, we killed one of them, the demon called 'Guilt', he was using a doctor as the puppet and we killed him," Sam finally said, "The problem is we got these three left."

"God damn it, Sam!" Bobby finally barked, "It's after you isn't it?"

Sam was quiet on the other side of the phone.

"Sam?"

"It's Dean," Sam breathed, causing Bobby's hair to stand on end, "It didn't come after me, it came after Dean."

* * *

Dean's happy walk came to an abrupt stop as he walked into a clearing of lush green land, wild flowers that wafted in the air, and the most gorgeous peaceful lake Dean had ever seen in his entire life.

It was simply stunning.

Perfect to touch. Undisturbed by humans. Picturesque.

The water so still…just oh so still.

Dean knelt down slowly, his eyes mesmerised by the water, his hand automatically reached out to touch the scene in front of him.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Lydia said, her voice startling Dean as he glanced over to some rocks and watched the stunning girl; her blond hair tumbling down on her shoulders and her blue eyes vivid.

"I've never seen anything like this!" Dean said, his eyes wide as he stared from the rocks where Lydia sat to the lake just a few feet in front of him.

"Just look at it, Dean…the clear water, still as it can ever be, so peaceful," Lydia explained, a note in her voice soothing any worries that Dean had, "So pure, so free of problems."

Dean just stared hypnotically at the lake.

"You hate this life, Dean; you hate everything you stand for," Lydia said slipping off the rock and proceeding towards Dean, "You hate your father, don't you?"

"No," Dean whispered.

"Yeah, of course you do," Lydia said, walking behind him and rubbing his shoulders, "You're human, Dean; you have desires, urges, feelings also, your not a robot programmed to save your little brother."

"Sam," Dean breathed as his eyes closed, the hands on his shoulders rubbed them more deeply. He could feel himself floating off into the distance, the hypnotic tone in her voice lulling him into a safe zone.

"Sam's ok, Dean, don't you worry about him," Lydia explained, "You see that's your problem, you listened to your dad a little too much and for a little too long. You forgot what it's like to think for yourself."

"Who are you?" Dean asked softly. His sentences light and whimsical, "You're not a good person."

"Sweetheart, nobody's good, or a saint," Lydia said with a chuckle, "But you see, I can help you Dean; that pain in your heart, the one you've been burdened with since you were a boy…I can make it go away."

Dean shook his head frantically.

"I can't wake up," Dean mumbled as he blinked furiously.

"That's cause you're not asleep sweetheart," Lydia said, "You're wide awake and you're looking at everything you've always wanted."

"Sam?" Dean called in a small voice, forcing himself to get louder, "SAM!?"

"Hush," Lydia said gently as she placed a finger over his lips, "Sam's not here and he's not coming, he thinks you hate him and he's pouting some place."

Dean's eyes darkened, "You're it, aren't you?"

Lydia chuckled dryly, "Took you long enough."

"Let me go!" Dean ground out, "I don't know what you're doing to me, but it won't work!"

"Please!" Lydia scoffed, "Dean, you should learn to be more grateful. I could have sent one of the others after you, but I thought I'd save your fragile little brain anymore pain and let you off easily," Lydia said with a shrug, "What can I say, got a soft spot for the men I sleep with."

Dean felt his stomach lurch.

"So which one are you?" Dean hissed, as he turned to look at her, "I mean, you're gonna kill me anyway, what's the problem of sharing a little information?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, "I can give you everything you've always wanted, your darkest desires, your total freedom, with no sense of consequences."

"In English?" Dean muttered as his eyes glanced around the lake. Suddenly it didn't look so pretty…now it just looked like any other lake. This damn stupid demon was messing with his head.

Lydia groaned, "Sam really is the smart one."

"Like I haven't heard that one before…you actually got an original line?" Dean countered, "Oh, wait I get it, you're Inhibitions, the change your mind set, removing all responsibility kind of demon right?"

"Aren't you a sharp tool!" Lydia muttered as she glanced up at the sky.

Dean chuckled dryly, "And this is your bright idea of reliving me of my responsibilities? By taking me to a lake?"

Lydia glanced at her hand bag and sighed in annoyance.

"Am I keeping you up or something?" Dean muttered, "Cause if you got a prior life to ruin, then don't let me stand in your way."

Lydia stared at him in anger, "You know, if they'd have told me you'd have such a mouth on you, I would have taken Sam instead."

"My heart bleeds for you," Dean muttered as he looked at his feet and wondered why they wouldn't walk or move. He glanced at the blond girl.

"So, since you're hell bound on killing me…" Dean started as he watched her walk away, "Why don't you at least tell me what you want with me and my brother."

Lydia spun and looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on her face. A wicked smile appeared.

"Oh my god, you really, have no idea do you?" Lydia said with a laugh, "The mighty Winchesters, clueless!"

Dean felt his cheeks sting. It was one thing to be trapped by a demon but to get insulted by one…that was a whole other feeling.

"Go to hell!" Dean growled.

"I'd love to, miss it terribly," Lydia said, her eyes flashing burnt terracotta. A large smile danced on her face as the phone in her bag started ringing.

"That little brother of yours, never disappoints does he?" Lydia said pulling Dean's cell phone from her bag, which caused Dean to groan inwardly. He'd forgotten that the demonic bitch had taken his phone in the car.

His little brother was about to have a conversation with the demon that held his life literally in her hands.

Dean sighed heavily.

He just hoped Sam didn't piss her off...

* * *

Sam looked from the page he'd been reading…he had a headache and one that he knew over the counter drugs wouldn't fix. He couldn't believe what was happening, this morning Dean and he had sat there in their apartment banging their heads against the walls because they had no answers to their growing questions.

Now this evening, Sam had the answer to every one of them.

And they were making him sick.

Literally.

He knew why the demon came after them…well, sort of, the actual why still remained a mystery, but he understood the reason why Dean had been made to dope him full of drugs. He knew what these demons were after physically. He even understood why his stab wound in his side had vanished without trace.

What was worse, was that he finally understood that killing 'Guilt' was probably the biggest mistake they could have made. And that physically scared the youngest Winchester.

He glanced at his cell phone sitting next to him. He needed to talk to Dean, but could he risk another onslaught from his brother. He chewed on his bottom lip.

He'd risk it.

Pressing Dean's number on his phone he held the phone to his ear.

The voice on the other end surprised him.

"Dean Winchester's phone, how can I help you?" Lydia said with a chirp in her voice.

Sam's eyes narrowed.

"Who's this?" Sam demanded, any pleasantries gone from his tone. He knew this voice, he knew he'd heard it somewhere, but where he couldn't exactly say. "Let me speak to Dean."

"Umm, no, sorry, can't," Lydia said as her eyes locked with Dean's scowling ones, " Dean's a bit busy at the moment."

"Doing what?" Sam demanded, although part of him was really wondering if he wanted to know. He could feel his blood already boiling in his body; if Dean had blown him off to go and have random sex again with some girl, he'd kill him.

"Ummm, I think the term is losing his inhibitions," Lydia said with a laugh. "I wouldn't exactly disturb him."

"Who is this?" Sam demanded again, "I don't care what he's doing, let me talk to him, now."

"Temper, temper there Sammy," Lydia said with a sigh, "You got to learn how to behave during negotiations you know."

"Son of a bitch!" Sam growled, "Inhibitions huh? If you lay one finger on him…"

Lydia's hand tightened on the phone, "You're gonna what? Kill me? I don't think so Sam, because I want you to suffer, we all do."

"Yeah, well I got news for you," Sam said, "I know how to kill you, and I'll just keep doing it until there is none of you left."

Lydia's laugh darkened, " Do you have any idea what it's like to lose someone you love, to lose your brother Sam? I do, because you killed mine. You and Dean murdered him. You killed my big brother."

"You evil…"

"And now you're about to find out what it's like to lose yours."

* * *

Sam heard the connection die against his ear.

He scrambled to his feet and jumped as thunder clapped loudly outside the beach side apartment, and a torrent of rain descended on the area. Hurrying, he closed the veranda door and, in a trance, stared at the sheeting rain hammering against the glass door.

He watched the thunder crack over the sea, filling the darkened, evening sky with spatters of bright, white light.

That bitch had Dean.

And he had no idea where.

He had to think, and considering the pressure that was building in his head and the tension coursing through his entire body, he wasn't sure if his brain could string together a coherent thought, let alone an idea that could get him to Dean.

"Think, Sam, think!" Sam muttered to himself, "Inhibitions, what would Dean do if he had no fear?"

A thousand things leaped into his mind, from jumping off a bridge, to playing chicken on the freeway with cars, but none of it shouted out to him.

And then a thought hit him.

Inhibitions meant there were no consequences to you actions; at least you were so far gone, you couldn't think through the dangers.

Or warnings.

Sam grabbed his jacket and rucksack and hurried out the apartment.

"Hold on Dean!" Sam whispered as his ran into the sheeting rain.

He knew exactly where his brother would go.

* * *

"You happy now?" Dean muttered, "Got me all to yourself, so you can have your wicked way. Well, at least do me the favour of killing the chit-chat and get the hell on with it!"

"Everything takes time, Dean," Lydia muttered, "Impatient in bed, impatient in death, is there any other kind of impatient you do?"

"Screw you!" Dean spat.

"I believe you already did that," Lydia teased, seeing the anger on Dean's face, "You got no idea how sexy you are when you're angry."

Her fingers stroked Dean's features; he closed his eyes trying to keep the shudder from running through his body.

"Lets see what your brother can deliver, eh?" Lydia said with smile as she walked away from the frozen Dean and looked out at the lake.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, but she kept her eyes on Dean. He was oblivious to his surroundings, the cold air that was seeping into the atmosphere, the rain hailing down, the lake, running frantically into rapids, the rushing water raging just a few feet away.

All Dean saw were sunshine, warmth, and peaceful water that made him feel safe and secure.

Now, all she had to was keep the illusion going.

Dean glanced over to her, his body feeling stiff as he tried to move his neck in her direction.

"What do you want with Sam?" Dean demanded, "You already have me, why don't you just settle for that?"

"Settle? Sweetie, demons don't settle, we take, we destroy and most importantly, we destroy those who try to destroy us," Lydia said simply, "You got no idea what you've done Dean, no idea at all."

Dean stayed silent.

He didn't have a come back for that, because truth was, that night at the cliff, the way that red eyed demon has just burnt to ash from the bullet, still freaked him out. He didn't understand what had happened out there, the only thing he cared about was that he hadn't murdered Sam; although he'd come ridiculously close to it. Now he wished he'd looked into it more; cause it might have helped explain why he standing here staring out at this perfect lake, unable to move.

Lydia's head suddenly picked up, her terracotta eyes flashing.

"I'll give you one thing Dean, that Sam of yours, loyal like a puppy dog, he's coming for you."

Dean clenched his jaw, he could feel the muscle twitch.

"He'll kill you," Dean whispered, "Make no mistake over that."

Lydia walked over to Dean, her pretty face now a snarl.

"Kill me? Now that's a trick I'd like to see."

* * *

Sam's breathing was heavy, the pain in his side was like fire. He was seriously out of shape and his crying body only reminded him every single step he took.

He'd gone straight to the diner and asked for the nearest lake. The owner had sent him to 'Cedar Lake' less than a mile away from the diner.

In the Impala he would have been there in less than five minutes.

However on foot, he didn't even bother looking at his watch. He knew it was taking way too long.

And he hadn't even spotted the Impala along the way.

Running, he broke onto the hill, and skidded abruptly to a halt as he found himself looking down at the lake. The moonlight lit the choppy, fast moving water just below him.

He held his breath, willing to slow his breathing down, the rock salt loaded shot gun feeling like dead weight in his hands.

And there, just below him on the right stood Dean. And standing to the right of Dean was 'Inhibitions', in all it's glorified demonic form.

Sam picked his way silently down the path, his eyes never leaving his brother who teetered at the edge of the bank.

As he drew closer he could hear 'Inhibition's talking, but what she said remained a mystery.

"Nice of you to join us Sammy," Inhibitions teased, in a voice loud enough for Sam to hear, "You're just in time for the show."

Sam felt his heart leap into his mouth. She'd been waiting for him.

"Dean, listen to me, don't go near that water, it's not what you think it is," Sam said, his tone soothing, but he was increasingly alarmed by the fact that Dean never looked in his direction once. "Stay away from the water."

"Tut tut tut there, Sam, I don't think Dean wants to listen to you," Inhibitions said, a snarl on its black, soulless face, "It's only got room for one voice, and that's mine honey."

Its orange eyes fell on the shot gun and she laughed loudly, "Is that it? Is that how you plan to kill me? Boy, Dean would be disappointed if he knew you came unprepared for such an event."

"Let him go!" Sam growled as he inched closer, the gun raised on the spirit.

"Aha, ah, ah there Sam, I'd stay just exactly where I am if I were you, one more step and I let Dean here take a little ride in that water," Inhibitions said with a smile, "And trust me, he won't be coming up for air."

"What do you want?" Sam demanded, "Maybe we can strike a deal.."

"Making deals with demons, thought you Winchesters had learnt that lesson already," Inhibitions said with chuckle, "Or maybe not."

Sam stared in confusion at her, but wiped the look off his face.

"What do you want from us?" Sam asked again.

"Mainly revenge," Inhibitions snarled, "Anything else I get from the two of you, it's just a bonus."

"Why did he say that Dean was the key?" Sam demanded, "A key to what?"

Inhibitions laughed manically, "You expect me to tell you that? You're even more deluded than I gave you credit for."

Sam watched as Dean took another step forward.

"Don't, Dean, stay away from the water!" Sam pleaded, "Come on man."

"Gonna have to do better than that," Inhibitions teased, as it she turned her attention back to Dean, "**Jump!**"

The shot gun exploded and the spirit screamed and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

The vacant space he now stared at was where his older brother should have been standing.

But he wasn't.

Sam ran to the edge of the bank and stared out at the water.

"DEAN!!"

* * *

**I know, evil bitch, right ? Muhha ha ha, I couldn't help it, it had to be done. Thanks for reading and if you do get a chance please leave a review, its fuel for this old work horse. Until next update. Xxxx**


	13. Sticks and Stones

**Massive apologises for the delay in this story. I have no excuse other than I am an idiot. I lost my memory stick which was housing my story and didn't have the sense to have backed it up; like I said, I'm a total idiot. I lost about eight chapters and the honest truth is that I am having trouble re-writing the chapters as my head is finding it hard going back to the story, when in reality I'm already working on the story after it. Bad move I know.**

**So I've been trying to write this chapter for ages now and I got no idea how it will come across. You may have to re-read the last chapter to refresh yourself to where we left off as we start this chapter in the middle of the action ! I realised I had to post something up soon as unbelievably (and I am truly humbled), I am still getting emails and alerts and reviews on this story.**

**All mistakes in this chapter belong to me. To my wonderful beta, you know who you are, if you come across this chapter please email me, I've lost your email address :o(**

**I dedicate this story to the wonderful readers who are still reading. You guys rock and thank you all for your support.**

**Chapter 13- Sticks and Stones**

Sam didn't even stop to think.

The rucksack, the gun and his jacket fell to the ground and before he knew it his body hit the water.

The water was cold, much, much colder than he ever expected, after all this was Florida, and what with the sudden drop in temperature and the water tossing him around like a rubber ring, he was surprised he hadn't lost consciousness.

He struggled up for air, and tried to treed-water to gain his bearings but the current simply pulled him along in the water, tossing his already aching body into any thing it could find.

He knew he was less than thirty seconds behind his brother. He hadn't even stopped to consider his own safety as he had dived in after him, because if he had, he'd have told himself that this idea, was really pretty damn dumb.

But it was Dean.

And stupidity at the thought of losing his brother could be forgiven.

The younger Winchester forced his arms into action, slowly sending him forward, it wasn't before long, in the quickly darkening sky that he spotted Dean's form being swept down stream. With Dean now in sight, Sam had no intention of losing track of him again, so he forced himself forward even faster.

Allowing the current to aid his swimming, he soon found himself crashing into Dean's still form. Snaking a hand around Dean's body he turned Dean's face out of the water and begun to pull him against his chest.

Now to the do the impossible.

The only way back to land was to swim against the current and go to the nearest edge he could find. With darkness quickly descending, Sam clung onto Dean and sucking in a deep breath, begun to head left, back towards the side of the bank Dean had jumped from.

" You hang on there Doone, everything is gonna be ok now…" Sam murmured to Dean. The fight against the water strained every muscle in his body and the added weight of his unconscious brother didn't help at all.

After a couple of slips and falls, Sam finally managed to haul Dean onto the bank and then pulled himself out afterwards.

His body shook uncontrollably from shock and the cold, and there was a serious burning sensation coming from his left wrist, but he threw Dean onto his back and started to search for a pulse.

He ignored Dean's closed eyes.

He ignored the still form.

He ignored the paleness.

His trembling hands tried to search for a pulse, but the one he heard thumping through his fingers as he fiddled with Dean's neck left him in serious doubt. He wasn't sure if he was feeling Dean's pulse, or his own.

God he wished he'd stop shaking.

Tilting Dean's neck back slightly, he lowered his cheek down inches from Dean's mouth; he could feel nothing against his cold cheek, no warm air, nothing.

" Shit…" Sam muttered, as he straightened Dean's limb, ignoring the situation and set to work on administering CPR.

Five quick breaths into his brother's mouth and some compressions on his chest, and finally Dean gurgled and gasped for air.

Sam cried out in sheer happiness as he shoved the older boy onto his side to help him expel the water in his body. Sam lowered his head against Dean's heaving body and rested his head against his older brother's shoulder.

" Thank god…" Sam breathed, wondering why it was so hard to catch his own breath.

Dean's turned and blinked owlishly at him.

" Urgh, what the hell happened..?" Dean gasped as he struggled to sit up, shoving Sam off him.

Sam was beyond exhausted as he stared at Dean.

" Dude, where the hell is Lydia…?" Dean demanded, as he knelt on the ground and slowly tried to stand up, " Ah man, don't tell me you scared her off, we were having such a good time…"

Sam stared at him in disbelief as he climbed to his own feet; he was still gasping for air.

" Oh you have got to be kidding me right..?" Sam yelled.

" You ruined my date..!" Dean yelled, " You just couldn't stand the fact that I wanted some time for myself, so you just had to ruin it.."

Sam stared at Dean, his face livid.

He watched Dean slowly sway to his feet, and in sheer anger, with the small amount of energy he had in his body, he shoved Dean flat onto his back.

" Next time I tell you to stay away from the lake, stay the hell away from it..!" Sam screamed at him.

Dean's eyes were wide as he stared up at the enraged Sam.

Seething with anger, Sam turned back in the direction of where he'd left his stuff and headed towards it. It didn't take long for him to hear awkward foot steps behind him.

" Dude, what's got you in such a pissy mood..?" Dean asked as he tried to keep his legs steady after Sam, his body matching his younger brother's weaving.

" Just stay here Dean…" Sam said stopping abruptly, almost causing Dean to crash into him. " I'll be back.."

Dean looked stubbornly at Sam, but nodded quietly as he watched as Sam trotted off.

Sighing Dean sat down on the grassy bank, the wet ground oblivious to him, the rain easing to a light drizzle. Clearly, Dean was missing part of this equation and for the life of him he wished he knew what it was. Seeing Sam so angry, and his younger brother actually violently shoving him into the ground, well he remembered that only a handful of times, and each time it was because Dean had stepped a little far over the line; difference was, at least those times Dean remembered what he did, this time he was clueless.

He wondered what Sam had meant when he'd yelled at him to stay away from the lake.

He had no recollection of Sam telling him anything.

But as he felt his own clothes, he was wondering why he was completely and utterly soaked, right down to his underwear.

All he did recall was arguing with Sam on the phone as he sat in his car, with the gorgeous Lydia cooing beside him. His eyes darted around the darkening forest, trying to pick up any sign for the leggy blond, but the only leggy figure he picked out was his overly tall brother dragging himself towards him.

" Take your shirt off…" Sam muttered as he stood over Dean.

" Dude..-" Dean started as he tried to awkwardly get to his feet.

" Look, Dean, just don't argue with me on this, now take your shirt off…" Sam said in a weary tone as he watched a confused Dean do as he was told, it's a pity the younger boy didn't have a 

camera to hand, this scene alone was worth a photo; Dean actually doing what he was told by Sam.

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes slightly wide in the moonlight, as he held his wet shirt out to Sam, shivering slightly in the drop of temperature. Sam promptly held out his jacket he'd left at the river bank, and Dean slipped on the dry jacket.

" You ok to walk..?" Sam asked as he looked Dean over with his eyes, other than a good nights rest and a warm shower, Dean should be alright.

" Yeah fine lets go…" Dean said as he took a step forward and then glanced back at Sam, " Erm, which way..?"

" That way.." Sam muttered as he took the lead and felt Dean drop into pace behind him. He could feel his older brother's eyes on him.

" You want me to carry something, give me the shot gun…" Dean said after a while of silence, as he held his hand out.

" Why, you want you to shoot me..?" Sam mumbled, " Dean it's fine, I can manage, you just concentrate in putting one foot in front of the other.."

" I'm not five you know, stop treating me like a child, besides, that's my gun…" Dean pointed out as he stood on the spot on the dark path looking ahead at Sam who hadn't stopped walking, " Sam, I'm talking to you..!"

" Fine, carry the stupid gun.." Sam snapped as he held the gun out to Dean who hurried up to him and retrieved the weapon. He looked down at the barrel and made a face as his hands came across something sticky.

" Dude…" Dean said raising his hand in the air trying to catch a glimpse at what was on his hand, the moonlight finally proved useful and gave him a hint, his hazel green eyed promptly grew large, " Is this blood, Sam, what were you shooting, why do you have a shot gun with you..?"

This time it was Sam's turn to be puzzled, he didn't know where the blood had come from. Looking down at his own hands, his mouth fell open as he stared at his right hand which was tacky with blood. He stared at his wrist, and while the light was poor in the dark forest, he knew what was wrong.

" It's just a scratch Dean, I'll take care of it when we get back to the apartment…" Sam said over his shoulder as he heard a grunt from Dean and his brother's footsteps began again behind him.

" Sammy, how far is the car ?" Dean asked as he quickened his pace and fell in line with his brother's steps, " And exactly why are we in the woods..?"

Sam stared at Dean, " Dean you came in the car, where did you park it..?"

Dean started laughing, " Don't be an ass Sam, I always tell you not to screw around with me and my baby, so where did you park it..?"

" Dude, I did not, listen to that again, did not drive the car, you did, remember when you went off to find out information on..-"

" Wallis..!" Dean shrieked which startled Sam, as he watched Dean's eyes grow wider and panic begin to set in, " Oh my god, where the hell's my car..?"

" I got no idea.." Sam mumbled in a tired tone, " But I'm sure it'll turn up soon enough.."

" Turn up soon enough, are you friggin insane Sam, we find it, now…" Dean demanded, " So lets go.."

" Do you mind if we actually get out of the woods first, or is us being here hampering you movements of finding the car you friggin lost…" Sam finally snapped, " We're going home first and then we're gonna go and find the car…"

" Where's Lydia, she was in the car with me Sam…" Dean demanded as he looked across at Sam's stony face, " If you've done anything..-"

" You know what, I have had it up to here with you and that friggin bitch…" Sam snapped his movements wild as he wheeled around to glare at Dean, " We wouldn't even be out here if for once in your stupid life you stopped thinking with your down stairs brain and started using the one in your head…"

Dean watched as Sam stomped off.

" Anything else you want to get off your chest mighty mouse…?" Dean barked, " Look, I don't know what the hell has got into you, but you better drop this friggin attitude right now…"

" Got into me..? Dean I tell you to stay away from the lakes and you go here anyway.." Sam steamed, " You almost drowned…!"

It was Dean's turn to stay silent as he watched as Sam marched off, he finally stalked after him.

" No one told you to come look for me, that was your call…" Dean spat, " Just cause you got your hair wet and the princess is in a foul mood, don't take it out on me…"

" Just shut the hell up Dean.." Sam moodily snarled.

This time Dean took the lead and walked off into the woods leaving Sam trailing behind.

Sam finally stopped, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. He shouldn't he angry at Dean, and he certainly shouldn't be yelling at him, but Dean sometimes had an attitude that made you want to kill him; this apparently was one of those times. He was tired and dizzy and he just wanted his bed, but the truth was itching to make itself known to Sam, and he knew he had to tell Dean everything that was going on, but something told him that Dean wasn't in the mood to listen.

He heard a rustle in front of him and looked to see Dean coming towards him.

" You seriously going to stand there all night..?" Dean demanded a few feet in front of him.

" No…" Sam muttered and trotted towards Dean who stood there with a scowl on his face. He brushed past him and carried on leading the way back to the road.

Dean simply watched as Sam led the way. He couldn't put his hand on it but there was something not right here, and it was annoying him that Sam was being so evasive with him, enough was enough; it was time for answers.

" What was that crack about Lydia and me thinking with my upstairs brain, Sam…?" Dean demanded as he watched as Sam automatically opened his mouth, " And if you're about to say, nothing, then think up something else…"

Sam stared at Dean, his hazel eyes almost begging his older brother for a reprieve.

" Please Dean, lets just get back to the apartment, I'm cold and hungry and you're clearly not in a listening kind of mood…" Sam pleaded, " Do you want me to beg, cause I will.."

" Oh, no, you're not pulling the little brother is hurt card on me this time Sammy…" Dean spat, " I want answers, now…"

Sam spread his arms wide, which hurt more than he thought it would, his own anger boiling back to the surface; he so was not in the mood to be arguing with Dean right now.

" Dean we're in the middle of some very dark and dank woods, we're soaking wet, I'm freezing cold here, and it's starting to rain again.." Sam pointed out, " So can we do the questions and answers session once we get home..?"

Dean growled and looked at him, " I saw that look on your face when you came back and found Lydia in the apartment, you hated her.."

" Damn right…" Sam snapped, " You know what, you're a friggin moron Dean, she was using you…!"

" Jealous..? Cause I'm telling you Sam, green is not your colour…" Dean pointed out, " Just because you're so tightly wound that you don't know how to have a little fun anymore, that your ass is so rigid that a desperate friggin housewife would turn you down, does not mean you get to bitch me out over who I'm seeing…"

Sam suddenly stared at Dean his eyes widening.

" You need to go home; now…" Sam said a no nonsense tone to his voice.

This wasn't Dean, this was Dean still trapped in inhibitions mode, a Dean that would say and do whatever the hell he wanted because there was no consequences to his actions; at least none he would remember. Sam wasn't really sure he was ready to hear what Dean thought about him, really, thought about him.

Sam hoped the further they got away from the lake the weaker the hold on Dean would be.

" Don't tell me what to do, I am sick to death of you always telling me what I can and can't do, you always think you're so much better than me, but you're not. You think cause you went off to Stanford makes you something special, it doesn't, it just means you're a coward and ran away from your responsibilities…" Dean steamed as he folded his hands across his chest, inviting a comeback from his younger brother, " What's the matter Sam, cat got your tongue..?"

" We're going home Dean, whether I have to knock you out and carry you there myself…" Sam said with gritted teeth, trying to ignore the comments that were stinging at his cheeks.

" You and who's army Sam..? You couldn't beat me when were growing up and you can't beat me now…" Dean said simple, " Oh and don't wear that wounded puppy look on your face, you're too old for it.."

Sam sucked in a breath ignored the comments, turned on his heel and started walking into the woods. If he was right and Dean was looking for a fight, then he'd need Sam around to pick at, so the faster Sam moved away from the lake, the faster Dean would have to follow him. He had originally walked along the lake to get to Dean in the first place and that plan seemed to have backfired as it looked like 'inhibitions' had enchanted the entire forest, which was spelling disaster for Sam and fuelling Dean's mouth for arguing.

On the bright side, at least Dean wasn't trying to throw himself into the choppy water, which was one small mercy. Instead he just had the king of snide and hurtful remarks walking behind him.

Great substitute.

" Don't you walk away from me !" Dean steamed as he hurried to catch up, Sam didn't slow down, he pushed himself to keep moving through the woods.

" Weren't you just yelling at me for walking slow..?" Sam mumbled as he kept on walking.

" You're such a friggin loser…" Dean muttered as he trotted at his side, " You know, I don't get you…"

" No kidding…" Sam muttered as he kept his head straight and kept on walking, " Dean, just take my stupid advice and stop talking before you regret something you say…"

" Don't tell me what to do…" Dean snapped, " And you wonder why dad just took off and left your ass in hospital.."

Sam clenched his jaw so tight he thought his teeth would shatter in his mouth; he so did not want to hear his brother's thoughts on this topic.

" Just couldn't leave him alone could you, always had to shove your opinion down his throat, your precious point of view…" Dean babbled, " You just couldn't help it, it's all about you, all the time no matter what…"

" You finished..?" Sam muttered as he kept walking, his teeth working and clenching the muscle.

" Not even started yet…" Dean sharply replied, " You're just clueless to how selfish you really are, you got this attitude that seems to prick people in the wrong place…"

Sam finally stopped and Dean felt a huge smile appear on his face as he stood facing his brother, " Awww, hit a raw nerve there Sammy..?"

Sam bit down hard on his teeth.

" Let's go this way…"

Dean watched as Sam simply walked off deeper into the woods, straying from the trail.

" Where are you going..?" Dean demanded, " We're already lost as hell, we should stick to the trail..."

Sam didn't respond, he just kept walking, hoping that Dean would once again take the bait and continue to follow him.

Sure enough, Dean's footsteps were quickening behind him

They walked in silence for a while, Sam listening to the unsteady thud of his pulse in his ear and Dean's consistent bitching about all the things he didn't like about Sam, right down to the scent of his shampoo to the style of his hair.

Sam just kept walking replacing Dean's voice with the tone of the now steadily falling rain.

His mind miles away, he physically jumped when some thing grabbed his wrist.

Reeling back in shock, he was surprised to see Dean looking at him.

However this Dean looked different, the scowl that had been planted on his face since he'd been dragged out of the lake had gone as had the anger from his eyes. Now the older Winchester just looked very confused and very cold.

" Sam...?" Dean asked in a worried tone, " What in the world are we doing here..?"

" Hiking..." Sam muttered the sarcasm clear on his face as he glanced Dean a look and continued walking. He was relieved that Dean seemed to be back with him, his Dean, his older brother, not the poison tongued guy he'd been walking with for the last half an hour; but exhaustion was creeping in and all he wanted to do was crash.

" Real funny there Sam..." Dean said trotted beside him as he looked at the shot gun in his hand as if it was a foreign object, " We hunting..?"

" Kind of..."Sam said considering the question as he forced a smile on his face, " You're gonna be fine now, I promise..."

" Dude, I believe you..." Dean said with a nod, " But that still don't explain why we're out here, and why I'm soaked like hell..."

" It's raining Doone..." Sam said in a tired tone hoping that would be an explanation enough.

Dean scowled at him in the darkness, " Sammy, it's pretty clear that it's raining, but my ass sticking to my boxers, has got nothing to do with the rain, wait, why am I wearing your jacket...?" Dean questioned as he peeped at his t-shirt that was hidden under Sam's blue jacket.

" What if I told you I'll explain everything to you when we get back to the apartment..." Sam reasoned, " Ok..?"

Dean studied Sam carefully, his feet trotted in time with his younger brother's stride.

" Where did you park the car..?" Dean asked as he glanced around the surroundings of the woods, " Cause I think we're going the wrong way..."

It was Sam's turn to look at him funnily, " You know where you are..?"

" Not really..." Dean said with a shrug, " But I figured if you were going to park the car somewhere it would probably be along the route of the path, and we've come off it..."

" And we have to stay off it..." Sam said in a stubborn tone, he wasn't in any hurry to see inhibition Dean again. " I'll come back for the car tomorrow..."

" You're not leaving my car out there alone...!" Dean argued, " God, you know what freaking animals are out there Sam, they'd probably try and take the damn wheels off her..!"

Sam shot his brother a look, " It's a car Dean..."

Dean looked at him wounded, " We're getting the car, it's not even up for debate..."

" Dean, you were the one who was driving and you've parked it some place and I haven't got round yet to solving that hunt; I've had a bigger one on my hands..." Sam explained as he glanced up at the sky as the rain started sleeting down on them, " Let's just get out of here..."

Dean mumbled his annoyance at his brother and regrettably started following him in a jog through the woods...

* * *

" You still intend on ignoring me ?" Dean asked as he trudged along the sand in the dark. His hazel green eyes cautiously scanning his surrounding area for signs of danger and the tide creeping in on them.

" I'm not ignoring you..." Sam said who was a walking besides Dean in the dark night sky, the stars twinkling down on them, on what was appearing to be a quarter moon night.

" Really..?" Dean asked in a sceptical tone, " Cause since we've left the forest, you've barely said two words to me..."

" But I did listen..." Sam countered, " We've come along the beach haven't we ? So, see, there you go, I'm not ignoring you..."

" Course not, you're just suffering from a clear case of selective hearing..." Dean muttered, as he kicked some sand.

He could imagine the scowl that decorated Sam's face, but waited for a retort, which never came.

" I can't wait to just get back and crash..." Dean said with a heavy sigh, " Today has just been too weird.."

" That I will agree with.." Sam said in a quiet tone as they watched as their beach side apartment came slowly into view.

It took Dean a couple more seconds to realise that Sam was no longer walking beside him; instead, the younger Winchester has stopped in his tracks.

" Sam..?" Dean called as he narrowed his eyes in a feeble attempt at picking out his younger brother.

" The lights are on.." Sam said simply as he glanced over at where Dean's voice was coming from, " I didn't leave the lights on..."

Dean returned his gaze back to the apartment studying the light; to his surprise, he watched as seconds later, the light was switched off.

" A considerate burglar that turns off the lights..?" Dean muttered under his breath, his legs already in motion carrying him towards the house.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he could feel his body screaming at him to slow down, that the sudden burst of energy wasn't good for him- but when did Dean ever listen to common sense?

Dean's legs were in the process of hurriedly climbing the steps to the veranda, when something unknown to the elder Winchester knocked him clean off his feet and sent him careering back down the steps, smacking straight into Sam who had just started climbing.

Both crashed landed at the foot of the steps, limbs and bodies tangled together in the dimness of the night.

" What the hell..!" Dean shouted in frustration as he tried to sit up only to get a finger in the eyes from Sam.

" Get off me.." Sam muttered, trying to get his hands to land on something solid so he could haul himself up.

Dean however went rigid on him and feeling his older brother tense, Sam went frighteningly still.

It was as if someone had just blown crisp, arctic air all over their bodies. Their hair on the back of their necks promptly shot up as the cold shivered down their spines.

That, had been, one hell of a cold spot.

Breathing dangerously slowly, the cold air slowly dispersed and finally the boys were alone.

" I'll say it again, what the hell..?" Dean muttered, finally clambering free of Sam's long limbs and started for the stairs again. With no gun or weapon of any sort to hand, Dean felt like he was approaching the apartment butt naked.

Already sensing his younger brother just inches behind him, Dean slowly reached the top of the stairs, opened the gated deck and stepped onto it, his eyes instantly staring into the dark veranda doors, trying to see into the apartment.

Sam saw Dean's expression in the porch light, and for a second he wondered what was going through his older brother's mind, when Dean suddenly reached forward and yanked the sliding glass door open.

Following his brother's lead, Sam trotted cautiously into the dark apartment behind Dean and within a few steps heard a crunching sound from beneath his sneakers.

He sighed heavily and his arm automatically reached for the light switch.

" Well, makes sense why they switched the lights off now..." Dean angrily spat, as he surveyed the carnage around the apartment.

The Winchesters had been robbed...

**

* * *

****Hope you enjoyed it, please review if you get a chance, I need all the inspiration I can get xxxx**


	14. Undercover

**Ah thanks so much for all the reviews guys, they were all so sweet. I answered back those I could, for those I couldn't:**

**Fendy-Thanks for replying, I know you had a long wait. What can I say, I'm an idiot when it comes to keeping track of things. Hope you hang in there and continue to enjoy.**

**Oceane-Who robbed the brothers indeed, why would anyone want to rob them ? All good questions, which will eventually be answered.**

**Well, again, wrote this in a hurry, hope it makes sense. Thanks to my lovely Carol. Hope you all enjoy it...it's a chapter most of you have been waiting for**.

Chapter 14- Undercover 

Dean Winchester lent against Sam's doorframe, studying his kneeling brother's back. Dean heard Sam sigh heavily and get to his feet, jumping slightly on seeing his big brother.

"So…?" Sam asked as he sunk onto his bed, watching as Dean came further into the room studying the mess.

Dean finally sat beside him and shook his head, "Nothing. I checked, and then double checked and then got real paranoid and checked everything again."

"And nothing." Sam said with confused exhaustion, "'Cause I've just searched in here and again, everything is here."

Dean chewed his bottom lip, "Who would break in, and steal nothing?"

"I don't know." Sam admitted as his eyes now moved out his bedroom door to the living room, "Man look at this mess."

"Yeah, I don't think we're gonna get the deposit back on this place." Dean said a nod, a smile coming to his face, "But we wouldn't need it back if we just stayed here."

Sam gave his brother a funny look, "Stayed here? What, you mean move here, permanently?"

"Well it's not that far of a stretch." Dean said with a shrug, "It would save us having to haul around everything we own and it would be good to have a base to work from, you know, somewhere we could retreat back to."

Sam stared at Dean with his mouth wide open, "Who the hell are you?"

Dean gave him his best 'ha ha' face and got to his feet to pick up some broken glass from a picture frame.

"I'm serious Sammy." Dean finally said as he carefully picked the glass up, his eyes no longer looking at his brother.

"That's what's worrying me." Sam said from the bed, "Dean, you've never been able to stay in the same place for more than a month before wanting to chuck yourself off a building, you've never been able to stay in a motel room for more than two days running without climbing the walls."

"So?" Dean shrugged, as he dropped the broken glass into the wastepaper basket.

"So..." Sam said getting to his feet, "The last thing I ever expected you to say was that you wanted us to get a home. I mean that's right up there with the idea of you suddenly wanting to eat vegetables voluntarily."

"Things change..." Dean said simply, "I've changed..."

Sam was quiet for a while as he watched Dean walk around the room trying to straighten out the mess.



"Is this about dad?" Sam quietly asked after a while, "'Cause, you can tell me..."

"It's not about dad!" Dean snapped angrily, "Why's everything I do have to be about dad? if I scratch my ass is that about dad?"

"It's just well, it's just you've never mentioned it before, and I know how angry you are with dad at the moment..." Sam said gently, "You've got every right to be angry."

"Drop it, Sam!" Dean snapped, "It was a stupid idea; I should have never have said it. I mean who the hell am I kidding anyway, I don't do homes."

Sam sucked in a breath quietly and watched the anger radiating off his brother.

"He didn't abandon us, Dean. I know it feels that way, but he hasn't." Sam said soothingly. "But this anger of yours towards dad, it has got to stop, Dean."

"Let me get this straight, you're telling me after everything that son of a bitch has done to us that you…" Dean shouted.

"Dean..." Sam reasoned as he watched Dean angrily storm over to him.

"No, Sam, no, don't you dare Dean me." Dean fumed, "How dare you defend him? You're the one always picking the fights with him, and the minute I am actually agreeing with you about the man, you're taking his side?"

"It's not like that Dean; I'm not taking sides, I'm just saying..." Sam tried to explain, his voice calm and measured.

"I hate what he's done." Dean ground out, his green eyes filled with unshed tears, "He left us Sam, left us for dead!"

"He wouldn't, he can't have..." Sam said, his own emotions beginning to draw him under. It cut him deeply to see how hurt and upset Dean really was. It was slowly tearing his own defences away.

"Those are the facts Sam." Dean said simply, his voice breaking, "I called him and called him and begged him to come back to us. Told him that we needed him, that _I_ needed him, and he never answered me back; he doesn't care Sam."

"Then maybe we should go find him, track him down." Sam said feebly.

"We spent the last year doing that, only for him to run off the second he got a chance!" Dean said, "He left you for dead, and left me to cope with that. You were dead, and I had no one, no one Sam, so don't you dare tell me that I don't have a right to be angry at dad."

Sam felt a tear slip out of his eye and he roughly wiped it away.

"He has to be doing something, something that would help us, help us find the demon, a way for us to end this nightmare." Sam said as he watched Dean head for the bedroom door, Sam promptly following him, "I have to believe it Dean, I have to!"

"Why, do you have to believe it Sammy?" Dean asked as he turned and studied his younger brother, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

"'Cause, I just have to..." Sam admitted, unable to finish his sentence.

"What, you have to believe it because you won't believe that your own father would leave you for dead?" Dean asked as he stared at Sam. "'Cause answer me this, didn't you call him the other day, didn't you tell him about the Alchemists, what they were?"

Dean watched as Sam nodded quietly.

"And has he called you back?" Dean asked simply, "'Cause I can already tell you the answer to that."

Sam watched as Dean headed towards his own room.

"Dean..." Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked in a weary voice.

"You have to let this anger go, if not for yourself than for the hunt." Sam said staring down at the floor, "One of the things the Alchemists go for, is anger and you are radiating like a lighthouse."

Dean considered what his younger brother said and disappeared into his room, emerging back with some clean clothes, "I'm going to grab a shower, get out these wet clothes."

Sam could only nod as he watched as Dean closed the door to the bathroom, wondering if his elder brother had even considered what he'd just said to him...

* * *

"It's beginning to look normal again." Dean said stepping out the bathroom as he towel dried his hair, "There's still hot water, you might want to jump into the shower and then let me take a look at that wrist of yours."

Sam glanced down to the blood stained bandages which were a mess, after his swimming session in the lake. "It's fine..."

"Yeah right." Dean said shaking his head, "Have you found anything missing?"

"Nope." Sam said sitting down on the sofa, "But I have been thinking."

"Always a dangerous thing." Dean quipped, as he sunk into the sofa opposite, "But go on."

"Well, maybe they didn't steal anything, cause, they never found what they were looking for." Sam said with a shrug, "It's a possibility."

Dean pursed his lips as he ran the idea through his head, "So, wait, you think we had it on us?"

"Maybe." Sam said with a nod, as he stood up and started emptying his pockets. Dean quickly began searching through his own wet clothing which was sitting on the sofa.

They placed everything they had had on them on the coffee table and stood staring at the contents.

"They were looking for a penknife?" Dean asked sceptically, "Dude, a hobo wouldn't even go after this stuff, I mean come on, we've got two pen knives, a lighter, some soggy money, and the keys to the car."

Sam wrinkled his face staring at the contents, "Wait, the back pack."

Sam snagged the back pack from beside the veranda door and began emptying its contents. Dean watched curiously as the items were unpacked, but once again the sceptical look returned once Sam stopped.

"That's it?" Dean asked as he took the bag from Sam, "You sure it's empty?"

"Yup." Sam said with a nod as Dean methodically double checked the bag. "There's nothing else Dean."

"So now we add to our fascinating growing list of items, a flash light, my wet t-shirt, a bigger knife, and a shot gun and my gun?" Dean asked tossing the empty bag onto the sofa, "Dude, this is getting weirder. Who would want to steal any of this?"

Sam picked up Dean's pearl handled gun and popped the magazine, "Maybe they were after this."

Dean considered the thought, "Maybe, but this shouldn't even bother them now, especially if they're all souped up thanks to us killing 'guilt'."

"Yeah, but maybe they're not willing to take the chance." Sam said with a shrug as he glanced at Dean's dubious face, "It's the best I've got for now."

"If only we knew where to find these bastards." Dean said in annoyance, "God, I'd love to kick their asses in..."

Sam slowly turned and gave his brother a very strange look.

"What?" Dean asked now looking oddly at Sam, "What's with that face?"

"Erm, Dean, we do know who is behind it, or we now know who's behind one of the demons." Sam said slowly waiting for it to dawn on Dean, but his elder brother's face remained blank.

"We do? Who is it?" Dean demanded, "Is that to do with that happened to tonight? Hey, what the hell did happen tonight?"

Sam shot to his feet quickly, "You know what, that shower sounds like a damn good idea, you sit here and try to remember what you can about tonight; and when I get back, we'll talk about this and everything else."

"Sam...?" Dean demanded as he watched his brother disappear quickly into his room, then vanish into the bathroom before Dean could question him any further...

* * *

"Lydia?" Dean asked again as he paced the floor of the apartment's living room.

"Yes." Sam said in a tired voice as his hazel eyes struggled to keep up with Dean's movement.

"Lydia?" Dean echoed again as he paused in front of Sam and looked down at him on the sofa. He opened his mouth to say something, discarded the idea and continued pacing.

Dean paused mid-step and looked straight at Sam.

"Lydia?" Dean asked, wanting total sense to dawn on him.

"I swear to god there is an echo in the room." Sam muttered as he stretched out on the sofa and tried to ignore Dean's frantic pacing.

"Dude!" Dean yelled, forcing Sam to groan and wearily sit back up.

"What?" Sam whined, "Dean I've been listening to you repeat the word Lydia for over ten minutes now. I'm wiped and just want to get some sleep."

"Sam…" Dean said as he spun and looked his brother, "I slept with her, oh my god I slept with a demon!"

"Oh, whoa, hang on there." Sam said holding his hands up, "Dean, I never want to know about your sex life, and tonight is no exception, trust me on that."

"Oh my god." Dean said again, "I slept with a dead chick!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh as Dean's hazel green eyes homed in on him in annoyance.

"What the hell is so funny?" Dean demanded standing in the living room with his hands on his hips.

Sam tried to stop the smile on his face but couldn't suppress it, "I just never, you know, knew you were into necrophilia."

"Shut up Sam!" Dean snapped.

"Oh come on it's a little funny." Sam said as Dean stalked away, walking into his bedroom, promptly slamming the door shut, which made Sam laugh even louder.

Taking in a deep breath, desperately trying to suppress the giggles, Sam walked towards his brother's room and quietly opened the door.

Dean was perched on the end of his bed, wearing his best sulking face.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I won't laugh anymore." Sam said with as much sincerity he could muster.

"You promise?" Dean asked in a small voice.

"I promise." Sam said from the doorway. A question leapt straight into his head and for a moment he wondered if he should ask.

The smile on his face must have given him away, 'cause his older brother noticed straight away.

"What's so funny now?" Dean demanded, "Cause I swear Sam, if you're about to say something stupid, I'm gonna throw you physically out this apartment."

"It's not funny, just more of a worry." Sam said trying desperately to keep a straight face as Dean got to his feet and walked past him back into the living room.

"What's worrying you..?" Dean asked as he glanced back at him over his shoulder and proceeded back towards the coffee table.

"Well, erm, when you and Lydia were you know…" Sam said trying not to laugh, "Please tell me you used protection cause if you're about to make me an uncle to some half demonic child…"

"SAM!" Dean yelled as he charged towards the bedroom just as Sam slammed the door shut on his face. "Open this door now!"

"Ah come on, Dean. You know if this was the other way round you'd be giving me hell over this as well, I promise that was the last joke, I promise." Sam said from behind Dean's bedroom door.

"Fine." Dean muttered as he backed away from the door. "I won't thump you this time, but you make one more joke…"

The door quietly opened and Sam nodded his head, "It's all out of my system."

"I'm so glad for you." Dean muttered sarcastically, as he stalked towards his room.

"I was just wondering if it's all out of your…" Sam innocently started to say.

"Sammy!" Dean said in a controlled tone, "Don't make me have to come over there."

"That was the last one, seriously, it was." Sam said holding his hands up in surrender as Dean disappeared into his room.

"Are you ok?" Sam asked sincerely as Dean emerged carrying more clean clothes in his hands. "I know I'm teasing you and all, but it's got to be a shock, I'm sorry that she messed around with you like that."

"Whatever." Dean muttered, "I'm gonna grab a shower…"

"Didn't you just have one?" Sam said wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah, that was before I realised I was some demons freaking bitch for the last few days." Dean said with a heavy sigh, "So I'm going to scrub my skin until it bleeds. I may be a while."

"Take as long as you need." Sam said with a reassuring smile as Dean walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

It was Sam's turn to sigh as he heard the shower turn back on. Jokes aside, tonight had been just too much. He'd almost lost Dean to Lydia, their element of surprise was gone, and they were still no closer to finding out what these demons wanted.

The younger Winchester didn't know why, but he had a strong feeling that things would have to get a whole lot worse, before they even began to get better...

* * *

"Hey." Dean said to the dozing form that was lying on the sofa.

"Hi." Sam said blinking up at him and realising slowly that he was on the sofa, "Guess I must have fallen asleep. How are you feeling?"

"Let's just say it'll be quite a while before I'm hitting any bars." Dean muttered as he sat down on the opposite sofa in his sweatpants and t-shirt, mirroring what his younger brother was wearing. "God, I'm tired!"

"Yeah, me too." Sam said with a nod as he sat up straight on the sofa, glancing down at his wrist. Before he could say anything though, Dean was already sitting beside him and pulling Sam's right wrist into his lap.

"Don't be a stubborn bastard, I'm too tired to fight." Dean admitted, "Just let me fix it, okay?"

Sam finally nodded apprehensively and allowed Dean to unwrap the messy looking bandage. He listened as Dean tutted annoyingly and shot him an angry look. Sam waited for the onslaught but it never came. Instead, there was a heavy shaky sigh from Dean. Sam looked worriedly at his elder brother.

"Dude, there's something I got to tell you." Dean said in a small voice as he stared down at Sam's raw wrist, the memory of him inflicting those wounds dancing in his head.

Sam gently eased his hand away with no argument from Dean.

"Sounds worrying." Sam quipped, "Come on, whatever it is, it'll be fine."

"I wish I had your optimism." Dean admitted as he glanced up at his brother, "Sammy, look, the night this whole mess kind of started…"

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that." Sam said with a gentle smile, trying to reassure his weary looking elder brother.

"The night you were stabbed…" Dean finally whispered in a small tone, "It was my fault."

Sam's eyes widened in confusion, "How on earth can you say that? We talked about this already; they made me see you do that, I know it wasn't you."

"But that's just it." Dean said looking up at Sam, "I kind of contributed to the whole mess."

"Dean…" Sam started.

"No Sammy, listen to me." Dean quickly interjected, "While that screwed up version of myself was trying to turn you into sushi, I could have come back earlier, a lot earlier and I didn't."

Sam listened and looked unsure at Dean.

"I was with Lydia." Dean finally confessed, "I wanted to head back to you, to call you, to check up and I just couldn't. I screwed up big time there."

"A demon had you under her spell for lack of a better expression." Sam said with a shrug, "And for what it's worth Dean, I knew you were with Lydia."

"And you're not pissed over it?" Dean demanded in total shock.

"Of course not." Sam said, warmth clear on his face, "Dean why would I be mad at you, you didn't know Lydia was an Alchemist, and neither did I."

"I'm just sorry." Dean said quietly. He sucked in a ragged breath, and looked at Sam, "Dude, this is spinning out of control, we're so deep into this we can't see what's happening anymore."

"I know." Sam admitted, "For what it's worth, I'm scared too."

Dean studied Sam for a second then got to his feet.

"Come on, no more sleeping on the couch." Dean ordered, "Go to bed, get some sleep and tomorrow we'll start looking for some answers. Now we know Lydia is involved, we can start digging around some more."

"I won't argue you on that." Sam said lifting his stiff body off the couch, "I could fall asleep standing right now."

"That would be some trick!" Dean said, watching as Sam shuffled towards his bedroom. "Wait, you're wrist, let me bandage that up."

"Nah, don't worry about it, I'll do it." Sam said staring down briefly at the limb, "Really, don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

"Ok." Dean said grudgingly, "I'll see you in the morning."

"More like mid-morning." Sam said with a snort as Dean chuckled and watched his younger brother disappear into his room, pushing the door in, but not closing it.

Dean sighed heavily as he thought about what Sam had just said. His younger brother was scared and truth was so was he. He'd never been in a situation like this before and had no idea how to deal with it. But he had to deal with it because if he didn't, one of them would die and that was not an option.

No way...

* * *

The apartment was dark and silent.

Dean almost jumped a foot when he saw Sam's bedroom door slowly open.

It looked like whatever had woke him up, had also woken his kid brother.

Dean snapped the safety off his automatic as quietly as he could as he levelled his gun at the dark shape that was moving stealthily around the room.

"You got be one ambitious thief to try and rob me twice in one night." Dean growled as he straightened his hand and stood away from the wall. He could just make out Sam's form standing in the doorway, his own gun in his hand.

"Dean?" Came a quiet gruff voice from across the apartment.

Standing quickly the figure moved rapidly across the floor towards the two rooms.

Dean watched the speedy figure, feeling threatened, his finger on the trigger.

"Wait!" Sam yelled as a shot rang out in the small beach side apartment.

There was a groan and thud and two bodies crash landed on the floor.

Dean's hand was trembling as he lowered the gun.

Why had two people gone down..? He'd only shot one freaking bullet.

"Sam?" Dean asked in an urgent tone as his fingers groped frantically for the light switch.

Snapping it on, light pooled the apartment through, making the elder brother squint as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Struggling to his feet, his shirt wrinkled, his face filled with stubble, his eyes furious and his breathing intensified, the intruder studied Dean.

Dean's bleary eyes locked with the dark hazel ones in front of him. He had to be dreaming, he had to be, 'cause this scenario staring at him full in the face was something out of a dream.

"Way to say hello." The voice grumbled.

Dean barely even breathed through his next words.

"Dad."

* * *

**Oooh, angry Dean, plus the return of papa Winchester can only equal one thing, well two actually- more problems for Sammy and ammunition for the Alchemists. Hope you all enjoyed it, if you do get a chance please leave a review, it's like fuel and you guys have no idea how much I need it at the moment ! xxxx**


	15. Black is Back

**Thank you for all the reviews, greatly appreciated as always. Not much to say on this chapter other than it was one of the hardest to write. Hope you all like it.**

Chapter 15-Black is Back

"What were you thinking trying to shoot me?" John Winchester asked as he shrugged off his jacket and glanced around the apartment, "And why is it so damn cold in here?"

"You're the one who always said shoot first and ask questions later," Dean darkly muttered as he turned his back on his father and walked towards the veranda doors.

"I didn't mean shoot me, Dean," John said with a chuckle, "I meant the bad guys."

"I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response," Dean mumbled as he yanked open the veranda door. "Not to worry though, cause you're not staying," Dean sharply said waving a hand through the door, "Go on."

John stared at his eldest.

" Dean..." Sam said in a small pleading tone, as he climbed to his feet from the floor. Every muscle in his body throbbed from the impact of hitting the floor and yanking his father out of the way of his brother's range. He cried inwardly when he heard the coldness in Dean's voice and wanted to crawl into his bed and hide when he realised that Dean was kicking their father out of the apartment. "Don't do this."

"Do what? I'm finally doing what I should have done years ago," Dean said between clenched teeth as he stared coldly at his father. "I said get out."

John looked at Dean and then slowly at Sam who was slowly clambering to his feet from the floor. He smiled at his youngest son. God it was so good to see him with his eyes open.

"Dean it's four in the morning, where do you expect him to go at this hour?" Sam reasoned, "Just let him stay the night."

"You got about five seconds to make a choice here Sammy," Dean growled as he locked eyes with his younger brother, "And believe me, I mean it."

John simply watched on with his mouth slightly open. This was a first even for him. It was rare him being caught completely off guard, but what surprised him was his two sons being the cause of it.

Sam's hazel eyes flickered at his father and then fell back onto Dean.

"I'm not choosing between my brother and my father," Sam said stubbornly, "Look, Dean, I know you're feeling angry..."

"You don't even want to begin to know what I'm feeling." Dean spat. "Sammy I mean it."

"No." Sam said in an equally agitated tone. "Look, it's been one hell of a night, and I for one want to go back to bed. Dean you're tired and angry..."

"Shut up Sam," Dean muttered, his eyes staring coldly at his father.

"But there is nowhere for dad to go and I am not tossing him out," Sam said flatly, "And you're not leaving this house Dean, so didn't even think about it."

Dean's eyes bore into his father.

Angrily, he slammed the veranda door shut and marched towards his room, grabbing his gun from the top of the couch. He turned for a second to stare at Sam.

"He better be gone before I wake up, cause if he's here..." Dean said severely, "I will not be held responsible for my actions."

Sam sighed heavily as he watched his brother's bedroom door slam shut, listening to it rattle in the frame.

The younger Winchester felt a hand settle lightly on his shoulder and gave it a warm squeeze. He turned to look at his father and sighed in relief when John wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight, warm embrace. Sam rested his head lightly on his dad's shoulder and for just a brief moment, allowed himself to just be Sam the son, and not Sam the hunter.

For just a brief moment, wrapped in his father's warm embrace and inhaling the scent of his father's cologne which was engraved in his memory from a child, Sam felt safe.

It was the safest he'd felt since running away with Dean from the hospital all those weeks ago.

"God it's good to see you," John murmured against his youngest son's hair, "I've missed you kid."

"Me too," Sam said in a softly as he reluctantly pulled away from his father, "Are you ok?"

John smiled warmly, "I'm fine Sammy, don't you worry about a thing, everything is going to be ok."

Sam sighed and sunk onto the sofa, "I'm not so sure about that."

John's eyes fell on the closed bedroom door to his eldest's room, "He'll calm down."

Sam snorted and shot his father a look, "You clearly haven't been here the last few weeks."

John shot him a look, "He's just a little angry, lashing out."

"And he's got every damn right in doing so," Sam said moodily. "Dad, what happened, where have you been?"

John sat beside Sam on the sofa and looked fondly at him, "It's complicated."

"No it's not dad," Sam said, shaking his head, "How complicated would it have been for you to just pick up the phone and say, hey guys, I'm fine don't worry about me."

"I knew you'd be safe with Dean, and Dean would be safe with you." John reasoned, "There was something really important I had to do."

"More important than making sure Dean or I were ok?" Sam snapped and instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry."

John shook his head, the last comment still stinging his cheeks, "Don't apologise Sam, you've got every right to be angry."

"Dad, I'm not the one who's angry; Dean is," Sam said simply. "I just want to know what's going on. All these secrets and lies and trying to protect each other, it's what's going to get us killed."

John nodded solemnly and watched his youngest son stifle a yawn.

"Come on, it's late, go back to bed." John stifled a yawn of his own, "I'll be fine out here."

Sam nodded and shuffled into his room, coming out carrying some pillows and duvet, which he promptly dumped on the single seater, "That pulls out into a sofa bed," Sam explained as he pointed to the three seater couch his dad was still sitting on.

John nodded and proceeded to pull the bed out which opened easily, shivering slightly he looked around the apartment. "It's a nice place you guys got here, but you boys ever heard of keeping it clean?"

Sam chuckled and helped place the pillows down on the new bed, "That's complicated."

"Smart ass," John muttered with a smirk as he stared at his youngest son. "And why is it so cold in here?"

"Errm, Dean and the AC didn't agree with each other," Sam said, deciding that version of the truth was better than the actual truth, "Needless to say, the AC won. He's given up trying to fix it now."

John nodded, sat down the bed, and looked up at Sam, "Go on back to bed."

Sam nodded, but was pulled back when John put his hand in his stopping him in the tracks, "It's really good seeing you Sammy."

"I've missed you too," Sam said with a nod as he felt his dad turn his wrist over and gasp, "What the hell happened here?"

"That's a long story, one for another day," Sam said trying not to yawn. "Try and get some sleep."

"I will," John said, letting go of Sam's hand as he watched his youngest head towards his room, "Sam?"

"Yup?"

"Don't you worry about Dean anymore," John said with a determined nod. "I'm here now, and I'm going to take care of everything."

"I'm not sure Dean will agree with that," Sam said with a tired smile.

"I can handle Dean," John said with a knowing smile, "But you, you just try and get some rest, and leave this hunt to me now."

Sam nodded and turned to walk away; however he paused and looked at his father.

"I'm really glad you're back dad," Sam said with a warm smile as he turned back to his room and closed the door.

John stared after his youngest son and felt the smile fall off his face.

Sam's hollow cheeks, haunted eyes and painfully thin frame filled the father with total dread. The scars on Sam's wrist filled him with worry and his stomach somersaulted just thinking about everything else he hadn't seen because the living room was so dark.

Sam had said he was glad that his father was back.

From the looks of it, John had arrived just in the nick of time.

* * *

Dean rolled from his stomach onto his side and sleepily opened his eyes one at a time to listen for any signs of movement in the apartment. He was still tired and knew he could probably sleep more if he wanted to, but in comparison to how he'd felt the day before, he knew he'd had a better night's sleep than he'd had on previous nights.

In fact he'd been surprised he'd even slept at all considering how angry he'd been when he'd gone to bed. He'd lain there in his bed staring at the ceiling and thinking up all the ways he could strangle his father and beat some sense into Sam, all without leaving a mark on either of their bodies. Needless to say he was yet to think up a solution, and somewhere in the midst of his frantic brain storming, he'd obviously fallen asleep.

Dean lazily brought his wrist up to his face, allowed a couple of seconds for his sleep filled eyes to adjust to the command, and finally read the display on his watch.

10.02am

Not that bad considering how refreshed he felt with only 6 hours sleep.

He rubbed a hand over his face and yawned widely, tossing up the idea of allowing himself the luxury of slipping back to sleep.

And then he heard a noise outside his door. Footsteps which quickly padded up to the door and promptly left.

There was no doubt in Dean's mind that, it had been Sam listening at the door to see if he could hear Dean moving around in his room, and clearly hearing nothing, as Dean was still lying in his bed, Sam must have assumed he was still asleep and swiftly left.

Which could only mean one thing, and on hearing the bathroom door close, and more movements coming from the living area of the apartment; Dean knew that his father was still there.

Groaning in annoyance and now wishing he could actually go back to sleep, Dean rolled onto his stomach, pulling the pillow over his head.

He couldn't cope with seeing his father at the moment.

All he wanted to do was grab him, pin him down on the ground, and punch him in the face until his fists bled.

Of course, Dean didn't need to know that that would be exactly what the Alchemists would want. As much as Sam's research irritated him at the best of times, his sense of knowing all things supernatural couldn't be faulted, and Dean knew this. He knew the Alchemists would love nothing more than to feed off his hatred for his father, to strengthen themselves by using his anger towards John against them.

So he knew he had to keep quiet, keep controlled and by some form of a miracle, play nice.

And Dean already knew that that concept would probably send him to an even earlier grave.

The hunter closed his eyes momentarily and pretended he was someplace else, anywhere but where he was. The idea of jumping into the Impala and heading off to the coast somewhere sounded like heaven just about now.

And then Dean's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright in his bed.

The car.

Where the hell was his car..?

* * *

Sam opened his mouth to say good morning in the best cheery voice he could manage, but promptly shut his mouth when he watched a clearly frazzled Dean almost rip his door off the hinges by simply opening it.

Before Sam's brain could even comprehend the rapid questions being fired at him, Dean was scowling at him, and he didn't like it when Dean scowled. It made his eyes wrinkle.

"Morning?" Sam said with a meek smile, "I'm gonna make breakfast in a moment, what do you fancy?"

"Fancy?" Dean snapped, "I fancy an explanation."

"To what?" Sam asked as he shuffled into the kitchen in the shorts and t-shirt he'd been sleeping in, "Eggs and hash browns?"

"How about, one, why is that man still here, and two…" Dean demanded as he stormed into the small kitchen after Sam, "Where the hell's my car?"

Sam's face registered genuine surprise, "Oh yeah, the car, after everything that happened last night, I clean forgot about going to find it."

"Her Sam, find her," Dean muttered as he stomped around the kitchen, "I can't believe she's been out there all night, all on her own."

"Ah, poor thing's gonna think you've abandoned her." Sam quipped, which earned a bigger scowl from Dean.

"Don't know why you think this is so freaking funny Sam. If there is so much of a scratch on her paintwork, I'm holding you responsible.." Dean said, pointing a finger at his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well excuse me for thinking that getting your ass home after you'd nearly died was a higher priority than finding the friggin car."

Dean's eyes narrowed at Sam, "That's another thing, why are you acting like you don't know where the car is?"

"Who's acting?" Sam said as he reached under the cupboard and took out a frying pan. "Dude, I don't know where your car is, you were the one driving it with the she-devil beside you."

Dean shuddered, "Don't ever mention that woman's name again."

"I'm not gonna. I'm taking to calling her the she-devil." Sam said as he started cracking some eggs into a bowl, "I think it suits her."

"And I think you're an idiot," Dean muttered, stomping out the kitchen, which made Sam laugh out loud.

On hearing no snide remark from Dean, Sam trotted into the living room after his brother, and watching as he headed towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded, his arms folded across his chest.

"Where do you think Sam, to look for the freaking car," Dean grouched , "I mean, I don't even remember where the hell I put it, you don't have a clue, and clearly have zero intention of helping me find her, which means I got to go out there and start finding her myself."

"Aren't you forgetting something Dean?" Sam said, trying not to smile.

"How about you stop yapping at me, and let me get out the door," Dean muttered as he turned back towards the front door, his door keys jingling in his hands.

"Ah dude…" Sam finally said just as Dean was about to close the door, "You may want to put some pants on, America is liberal and all, but the state of Florida does not need to see your boxers before mid-day"

Dean's eyes shot down to his boxers and crumpled t-shirt and the quirky smile that appeared on his face when his eyes raised to meet his grinning brother's, almost made Sam forget about how crappy their lives really were at the moment.

"They should be grateful that it was me that almost left like this," Dean said, coming back into the apartment and closing the door behind him. "If it had been you that had left, this entire county would have needed therapy."

"Ha ha," Sam said as he returned to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took the orange juice out. "Stay for breakfast, and I'll help you find the car after we're done eating.."

"You've lost the car?" A voice said from the bathroom door way, where John Winchester stood towel drying his dark locks.

"Not lost exactly," Sam said, seeing the scowl appearing on Dean's face, who promptly shoved past his father and slammed the bathroom door shut.

John stared at the closed bathroom door and made a face, "That went better than I thought it would have," He said with a chuckle, as he headed into the kitchen to see what Sam was doing,. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

It was Sam's turn to scowl, "It's just breakfast dad, not the Olympics."

"Still, you sit down and let me finish this," John said firmly as he steered Sam out of the kitchen, carrying his son's glass of orange juice to the table.

"Dad, do you even know, how, to finish it..?Sam asked sceptically.

"How hard can it be?" John said with a shrug as he picked up one of the items, staring at it quizzically.

Sam laughed as he came back into the kitchen to sit on one of the stools, "That's a hash brown. You usually like them, but then again, you've probably never seen them not cooked."

John continued to study it with a grin, "So this is what it looks like, eh?"

"How about you cook, and I'll supervise?" Sam suggested as he watched John consider the idea and finally nod.

"One condition, you don't leave that stool. " John said stubbornly.

"Yes sir," Sam said as he sipped his orange juice and watched his father awkwardly look at the frying pan and eggs, and looking like a lost puppy, his dark eyes finally turned to his younger son for help.

Sam laughed again and hopped off the stool, promptly starting to help his father.

It was a weird feeling, the two of them being in the kitchen doing such a simple task, but at this surreal point in Sam's life, he'd have taken any moment he got with his father. Simply making eggs and hash brown may not sound like anything ground breaking, but to Sam it was life changing.

This was about as close to normal as you could ever get, and as a Winchester, it was something to be cherished.

* * *

"You know, Dean it would be a lot faster if you and dad went, " Sam said as he sipped his orange juice, watching his father and brother eat awkwardly; Dean ignoring everything his father asked him and John painfully trying to ignore the rejection. Sam, on the other hand, had been starving when he'd woken up and after spending such a fun time trying to make breakfast with his father, he'd been disappointed when his appetite vanished. His eggs and hash browns still sat untouched on his plate and he didn't even have to look over at his father to know that the older hunter had noticed.

"It wouldn't take us long Dean, we'll retrace your steps, I'm sure it won't take long…" John said with a nod, hoping to tempt his son with the offer.

"No thanks," Dean ground out, as he stared angrily at Sam, "I think I'd rather swallow my own vomit."

Sam looked disgustedly at his orange juice and promptly placed the glass back down the table, "Thanks for that visual Dean.."

"You are more than welcome Sammy." Dean said abruptly as he drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet. "Come on Sam, we'll just go back to the lake and start looking from there."

It was Sam's turn to scowl.

"Are you insane..? You can't go near that lake.." Sam said shaking his head, as he looked up at Dean.

"Please, whatever crappy haze she had me under yesterday is gone. Besides, I know it's coming now, and she knows we're coming, and when I see her again..." Dean threatened, anger clear in his voice. "She's gonna wish she'd never been born.."

"Dean, it doesn't work that way, and you know that, " Sam pointed out as he folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. "You never know when you're being pulled in by these things and I've had enough of being chased by this thing. We got to kill these things now, and we have to do it before they split us up and use us against each other."

Dean's eyebrows arched up as he looked at Sam, "You done ?"

"You didn't even listen to a word I just said.." Sam snapped, "So just so you understand, I'm not coming with you to look for the freaking car, you are not going to the lake, dad is going to give you a ride, it'll take half the time looking for the Impala, cause I need you back here to help me with research.."

Dean stared angrily at Sam and sucked in a breath, "And what will you be doing here.?"

"Making those bullets we need." Sam said getting slowly to his feet, the utter fatigue making him feel like an old man. "I don't know how we're gonna kill these things yet, but we need to get them off our backs long enough for us to do it"

It was at that point that both Dean and Sam realised that sitting at the table with a fork half raised to his mouth was their father; and he looked shocked.

"You're probably confused, right ?" Sam said with a dry chuckle as he looked up awkwardly at his brother and then smiled at his father. Dean moodily stared at his father for a moment and then stalked away from the table towards the front door.

John and Sam looked as Dean opened the front door and quietly closed it behind him.

"So, you want me to go with him?"John said pointing his fork at the door.

"Please, I'll stay here and make those adjustment to the bullets and get this place in order. I want these Alchemists gone as quickly as possible.." Sam explained, "Just ask Dean what's been going on.."

"I think I'd rather ask you. Something tells me that Dean won't exactly be too forthcoming with answers.." John said getting to his feet.

"And can you blame him ?" Sam said with an annoyed look on his face, "Dad, this isn't Dean's fault, it never has been. This is your fault, your mess.."

John's eyes grew sad as he looked at his youngest son, "So how comes you're still being nice to me.?"

"Cause I don't have the energy to fight anymore.." Sam shrugged as he started to clear the plates, "With everything that is happening, with all the evil that is in our lives, I can't deal with what's happening to this family as well, not yet..."

"So talk to Dean right..?" John said, not knowing what to say in response to his youngest son, "Hey, what if he wants to go this lake..?"

Sam looked mystified at his father and felt sadness descend on him. John didn't even remember that Dean had almost drowned at the lakes when he was younger.

"Tell him he can't, and if he tries to anyway..." Sam nodded defiantly , "Shoot him..."

* * *

John sat behind the wheel of his truck and snuck a glance at his eldest son who was squashed against the passenger side door to the extent that John was worried he'd accidently fall out. He'd never been in this position with Dean before, it had previously always been Sam who held the grudges, got angry, blew up at him over things; but never Dean. This was untested waters and it made him uneasy.

A huge part of John knew that Dean, and Sam, we're both more than entitled to feel the way they did. There had been days when he'd missed them, craved to hear their voices and laughter, just to see what they were up to and make sure they were both ok; but each time he'd told himself that what he'd been doing was more important.

He was finally pulling his ace out of the pack and playing the card he'd been saving in desperate hope that he'd never have to use it, but after seeing the disaster that had almost cost him both his children in that cabin, it was clear that that card needed to be dealt.

And John Winchester was dying to tell his children all about it. To finally reveal to them what he'd been doing for over a month, what they're next move was as a family, that they were going to stay together, that hunting was going to be completely different now.

But he couldn't.

Because one child was clearly very ill and upset and the other, who was pressed against his passenger door was stinking mad at him.

And that was what was unnerving John the most. He knew that Dean was angry, crazy angry at him, he could see it in Dean's eyes every time he looked at him; and yet his eldest hadn't gone for him once, hadn't baited him into an argument. There was nothing. Just this weird, hatred that hung in the air that was suffocating John with every breath he struggled to take in.

"So you're gonna have to navigate me around this area a bit son, I'm sure you know about where you'd most likely have been yesterday.." John said nervously. Part of him wondered if he just reverted back into marine mode, if Dean would snap out of his anger and start doing as he was told; but for now, he decided against it. No point adding fuel to the fire, even though the small talk was painful.

Dean looked over at him with annoyance, then focused his attention back on the road.

"Why don' t you just drop me off here and I'll find the car on my own.." Dean finally roughly.

John shook his head, "It'll take too long.."

Dean muttered something incoherent under his breath and then folded his arms across his chest.

John debated his next idea in his head and decided to go for it.

"So how have you been..?" John asked in a genuine tone, "You're looking a lot better; have your stitches healed up..?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, "I went to the hospital..."

John shot his eldest son a worried look, "Are you sick, what's wrong..?"

"Like you give a shit, " Dean muttered under his breath, "No, I remember going there yesterday to do some research..." Dean said more audibly.

"Oh, ok.." John nodded nervously, "Which way..?"

"Left at the end of this road.." Dean muttered.

"You know, you didn't answer me about how you're doing." John pointed out as he followed his son's instructions.

"How about we just find the car and then you can go your own way." Dean nodded.

"Dean.." John said with a sigh, "I know you're angry..."

"Angry..?" Dean spat, but then forced himself to take a deep breath in, "You got no idea how angry I am.."

John stayed silent, setting his eyes straight on the road. Dean's venom had shocked him, but the fact that his eldest son had yet to blow up at him shocked him even more. What was Dean playing at..?

* * *

All in all Sam Winchester had had a pretty productive morning; well, as productive as anyone in his position could have wished for. He'd done a ton of research and had pretty much hit the jackpot on the identities of the other two Alchemists. He couldn't be 100 sure he was right until it came to the crunch, but his gut feelings were rarely ever wrong and he was willing to run with it.

He just hoped that Dean was willing to run with him.

Standing in the kitchen loading his newly modified bullets into his brother's pearl handled automatic, he snapped the magazine into place, clicked the safety on, and placed it in front of him, and began the same routine with his own automatic. He took a in a deep breath; it had taken a while to air the apartment out from the potion concoction he'd used to make the bullets. Glancing at the pot in the sink, he figured that would probably never smell the same again and was now fit for the bin- or to make more bullets. Sam had used all the bullets he could find in the apartment, which actually didn't add up to much. Only what had been in the gun, the rest of the ammo was still in the Impala, and nobody had a clue where the car was at the moment.

He hoped that Dean and his father were talking because he hated the atmosphere that had suddenly been created. Tension in the apartment was already at an all time high with just Sam and Dean and the unmentionable subject of their father, never mind actually having the cause of their arguments arrive in the middle of the night after one of them had almost drowned.

Sam knew Dean was angry and to his brother's credit, he also was fully aware that Dean had yet to blow up at his father simply because of the warning Sam had given him yesterday. Unless Dean was trying to kill their father now, which probably wouldn't have been a good thing, but it wasn't like Sam could blame him. Dean had every right to feel as angry, as betrayed and as terrified as he clearly was. Sam could have only imagined how alone and afraid Dean must have been to not only realise that his father had deserted him, but then watch as his only brother died.

And that whole topic made Sam numb.

Because he couldn't remember anything.

What it was like, where he went, what it felt like. Was there really a white light waiting for you. Because if there was, somebody forgot to send him directions because he never saw or remembered seeing any of it. He remembered the crash, calling for help, and waking up and finding a near hysterical Dean hugging the air out of his body.

Sam's bigger question, which he was forcing to the back of his mind and was too afraid of asking Dean his opinion, was the really big question.

Why was he now alive..?

Who had brought him back..?

And they were questions Sam desperately needed to know the answer to...

* * *

"Stop the truck !" Dean suddenly blurted out as John jerked the car off the road and pulled into a parking spot. It didn't take the father of two long to notice what had grabbed his child's attention.

Dean was already out the car and jogging across the road. John promptly followed.

"You bitch..!"Dean snarled.

"Took you long enough Dean.."

John walked over, looking confused at the scene in front of him. A rather attractive blond girl in her 20's was sitting on the hood of the Impala, apparently waiting for his eldest son, and looking incredibly happy at seeing him.

Apparently Dean wasn't so happy.

Her eyes looked past Dean and straight to John.

"Wow, just an older version of yourself there Dean. Hi there gorgeous.." Lydia said to John with a delicate wave of her hand.

Dean just stared at her, seething.

"So, did you find what you were looking for last night..?" Dean barked, as he subconsciously took a step back, almost crashing into John.

"Now, now Dean, you know we didn't find it," Lydia said, hopping off the car and now walking to Dean, who begun to back pedal again.

"Stay away from me," Dean said as he glanced around the busy street, and sighing in annoyance. He couldn't kill her out here, not in public.

"That's right Dean. There's squat you can do about me, and you..?You're a bright boy as is that little geek of yours.." Lydia explained, "Kill me, and we just get stronger..."

"Oh don't worry bitch.." Dean hissed at her, "You'll get yours.."

"Ah, Dean, didn't you enjoy your swim..?" Lydia teased, and then grew serious, "This is pretty simple, so here's how it's gonna work.."

John stared at the scene and begun to take a step in front of Dean, but Dean held his ground and would not allow John to move him.

"Ah how sweet, daddy wants to protect his cub.." Lydia smiled, "Pity it's the wrong cub..."

John felt Dean take a slight step backwards and his hand went gently on his son's shoulder to steady him.

Dean was fighting to keep his head up, his eyes growing heavy, his limbs feeling like dead weight.

He felt himself falling to the ground, but never met the ground as John's arms held him tightly to his body.

"What the hell are you doing to him..? Leave him alone..!"John shouted at her.

"Ah it finally speaks, " Lydia said with a toss of her hair, "I was wondering exactly what it would take to get a reaction out of you. So how's it feeling coming back now John..? I mean I knew you'd be a tough egg to crack, after all, how do you lure a father back, after he ran off and left his kids to die..?"

"I'm gonna kill you.."Dean whispered, drained.

"That would be a neat trick there Deano, I mean you're gonna pack _such_ a punch lying there on the ground.." Lydia explained, "So now I've got your attention, here's how things are going to work.."

"I'm locked into your frequency, Dean, I can get into your head anytime I want and I can make you do, or say or behave anyway I want you too.." Lydia knelt down on the sidewalk next to Dean, "That daddy anger inside of you, my sister's locked onto that as well, we're feeding off it right now and it tastes so damn good.."

"Now's here's the trick.." Lydia said, "Sammy's different..."

"Don't call him Sammy..." Dean growled.

"He's strong, can shut me out, psychic freak.." Lydia said in disgust, "But he can't lock out fear, his deepest, greatest fears and once my brother gets into his head and opens up those dark wounds of Sam's-then it'll be a free for all..."

"What do you want.?" John demanded.

"I'm not greedy, I just want what I originally asked for.." Lydia growled. "I want the Key.."

**

* * *

****Reviews would be great if you get a chance. Until next time folks...xxx**


	16. Keys

Chapter 16- Keys

**I know I suck with updates, so all I can say is that I'm sorry. Truth is my muse ran away….and I'm trying to recapture it so if you have any tips, let me know. Hope you like this chapter. Once again thanks to those who reviewed. Always appreciated.**

**Chapter 16- Keys**

John Winchester's eyes fell on Dean who was struggling to sit up. He was quite glad his eldest son had started to stir because he was at a loss as to what to do next.

"Urgh.." Dean groaned a little too loud, which caused John to tense with fear.

"Hold on son, I'll get the car open," John said, gently easing out from behind Dean. The older hunter clambered to his feet, hurrying to the passenger side door of the Impala and opening it.

John drew Dean slowly to his feet and gently placed him on the passenger seat, his legs still hanging out.

Dean could feel the mist slowly lifting but he still felt stunned and paralysed. What was aggravating him more was having no choice but to except his father's help; the last thing he wanted was any help from that man.

"Call Sam..." Dean croaked as he forced his head up to look at his father who was kneeling in front of him. Dean couldn't help but notice the worry that filled his father's eyes. John Winchester was worried about his son; but that wasn't the way it was supposed to be. John Winchester didn't do emotions or fear and especially not worry - especially not when it came to his children and even more so when it came to Dean. The hunter half expected to hear his father bark at him for being so stupid and yell at him to snap out of it so they could go and hunt the bitch down.

But Dean was in no fit state to go hunting any bitch down or trying to figure out why his father was pulling the concerned father card out his pocket. Right now Dean Winchester was simply trying to put a coherent sentence together.

Thankfully, Dean could see his father fumbling for his phone in the hot Florida sunshine and rapidly place it against his ear.

"Sammy?" John breathed, the relief evident on his face, "Are you ok?"

Dean's weak hands reached for the phone, gesturing for John to give it to him with the most determined look he could manage. When John handed him the phone, he wasn't sure if John had actually backed down, or had handed the phone over out of pity.

"Sammy?" Dean croaked, "You ok?"

* * *

Sam Winchester scooped his phone up from the kitchen counter when it started to vibrate, threatening to fall into the sink he was washing in.

"Hello?" Sam said as he carefully put the phone to his ear with wet fingers, "Hey dad, how's it going? You guys find the car?"

The younger Winchester waited for his father's reply, but instead heard ruffling and a different voice entered the conversation.

"Sammy, are you ok?" Dean's voice croaked over the phone.

Sam's stomach plunged to his feet.

"Dean, what's wrong? Are you ok? Are you hurt?" Sam rambled, "Where are you?"

"I'm fine, I'm with dad," Dean said, his voice clearly strained. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm fine," Sam said, subconsciously glancing around the apartment. "What's happened to you?"

"I had a little visit from the she-devil," Dean said, his tone filled with gravel. "She's gunning for you too, so keep your wits about you."

"I will. Dean, are you okay? Put dad back on the phone; I want to talk to him." Sam demanded, his stomach churning at hearing Dean so weak.

"You two can have your little pow-wow, when we get back." Dean chuckled. "We found the car."

"That's great! Just get home, okay?" Sam said worry evident in his voice. "I got lots to tell you about."

"Alright, we're on our way," Dean said with a nod. "Just, Sammy, make sure you keep all the doors and windows locked."

"What did she want?" Sam asked.

"I'll tell you when I get back," Dean said in a wearily.

"So she's definitely after something then?" Sam asked.

"Oh, they all are," Dean said with a sigh. "Stay safe."

Sam nodded his head, fully aware that his older brother couldn't see his acknowledgement as Dean disconnected the call.

Sam quickly finished washing the dishes that he'd piled in the sink and double-checked the apartment. He promptly laid fresh lines of salt across the doors and windows of the apartment and for extra precaution, lit four pink candles at the four points of the room for protection.

Once satisfied that he was locked in his own safe cocoon, he turned back to his printed out paperwork and began to put them in order. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to figure out who the other two Alchemists were. What bothered Sam at the moment was why they hadn't attacked. It wasn't like Sam had a death wish and wanted to be attacked by three blood-thirsty, torturing demons at once, but the lack of joint attack heightened his curiosity. It had made the youngest Winchester realise that the team of Alchemists were playing just like that; as a team. They were being tactical. Sam had a theory as to what it was they were up to, he just wasn't sure if he believed it himself.

He glanced around the apartment, still not completely satisfied with his own handy work of keeping himself safe.

Walking around the kitchen slowly, his hand hovered over his newly loaded automatic. He picked it up, then shaking his head at his own nervous nature, placed the gun back down quietly on the counter and walked back towards the sink.

He swallowed as his hand slowly moved towards the knife rack and his fingers wrapped around the carving knife.

Sometimes it paid to be paranoid in their job.

Swinging around, knife drawn in hand, Sam found himself staring at a dark haired figure with green eyes.

"Is that how I taught you to say hello?" The guy responded.

"You're not Dean, so cut the bullshit," Sam growled, the knife held defiantly in front of him as a strange sense of déjà vu washed over him.

"Ah, crap!" The man said shaking his head. " Someone's clearly feeling better I see."

"What do you want from us?" Sam demanded. "You can quit looking like Dean; it doesn't work on me anymore."

"I know, but it's still worth seeing the look on your face." The guy chuckled, "Kind of unnerving isn't it?"

Sam stayed silent, his eyes darting around for a way out of his face off.

"You see my sister paid your brother, your real one, a little visit, and she didn't get very far."

"So I heard. What's the matter, losing your touch without having drugs involved?" Sam spat.

"Relax Sammy, killing Dean won't get me what I want." The guy muttered.

"Really? Cameron?" Sam said, his eyes never leaving the form in front of him. He watched as the Dean look-a-like's mouth dropped open, his eyes flashed a sapphire blue, and his shape instantly changed.

"Wow, someone really has been busy," Cameron said with a smile, as he looked over at Sam, "But you still can't kill us, no one can."

"Well, I like a challenge," Sam said his voice strong.

"Here's the thing, you give us the Key and we'll leave you, your brother, and your old man with all your limbs intact." Cameron shrugged. "If you don't, well, we may still not get the Key, but you won't be around long enough to tell anyone about it."

"Bite me," Sam said with a streak of determination.

"Your funeral kid. What is it with you Winchesters and death wishes?" Cameron muttered, shaking his head. "It won't be pretty though, the way we'll kill you. You see, Dean's angry with his old man. We'll use that anger and turn it up an extra notch - all the ammo Dean needs to nuke his daddy."

"I'll take my chances," Sam said without blinking.

"As for Dean, well, he'll watch you die," Cameron said. " Fear can be crippling you know, consuming, suffocating..."

"Why don't you quit with the dialogue." Sam snapped, "You want a fight, you got one."

"You think it's that simple Sam?" Cameron asked with a chuckle, " Kid, you got no idea what your daddy has got you into."

Sam stared at him with surprise.

"Oooh, daddy's not quite been honest with you now has he?" Cameron said as Sam's hand began to lower the knife to his side. "That's right Sammy, put the knife down."

"No," Sam said in a strangled voice as he felt the knife slip from his fingers and heard it clatter to the floor.

Cameron walked directly up to Sam, as Sam, paralysed, watched helplessly.

"You didn't really think you were in control did you?" Cameron whispered in his ear, his breath warm against the young hunter's skin. "In case you didn't know, I'm fear."

"You won't get it." Sam whispered, his body shaking with the sheer force he was trying to use to regain control of it.

"I know all your fears Sam, the ones that give your sleepless nights the nightmares that plague you," Cameron hissed against his skin. "The ones buried so deep you pretend they're not even there. I can make them all come true, every single last one. To stop them coming true, all you have to do is give me the Key, and we all go away and you'll never hear from us again."

Sam forced his head from Cameron's face with all his energy and stared the demon in his sapphire blue eyes.

"Screw you." Sam snarled.

Cameron shook his head, bent down and picked the knife up, fingering the blade with curiosity.

"Last chance," Cameron said in steely tone.

" No," Sam whispered, " No way in hell."

"Too bad, we could have done business," Cameron said as he plunged the knife deep into Sam's side.

Sam screamed as the blade was buried in his body.

The demon watched as Sam sunk onto the floor and lay shivering on his side, gasping for air as the blood pooled around him.

"Hurts like a bitch doesn't it?" Cameron said, kneeling down next to Sam on the floor. " But you won't die, it wouldn't be fun."

"If it's the last thing I ever do, I'll kill you." Sam whispered faintly as he clutched his side.

"Now that would be some trick," Cameron said with a chuckle, "You see Sammy, that's been both you and that idiotic brother of yours problem from the very beginning. You like to think you've been in control of this situation - but you're not. You live when we tell you to, and you'll die when I tell you to."

Sam didn't answer, his eyes were closing slowly.

Cameron rolled his eyes, reached forward, and yanked the knife out of Sam's side with sickening speed.

"Be sure to consider my offer now Sammy," Cameron said as he stood back up and tossed the knife on the floor, "Time's ticking for your family, but especially for you. Now if I were you, I'd try and stop that bleeding. This whole scenario won't really work if you're dead before your brother gets back."

Sam's heavy eyes simply watched as Cameron's body shimmered from the room leaving the youngest Winchester surrounded in his own blood.

* * *

"So she's an Alchemist?" John quizzed as he drove the Impala back towards the apartment, pleased to see some colour finally returning to Dean's face.

"Yeah, she's Inhibitions," Dean said sourly. " Lets you do what you want without allowing your brain to realise the consequences."

"Is that why Sam told you to stay away from the lakes?" John asked, glancing over at Dean. "She made you do something, odd?"

"That depends, if you think jumping into a lake without realising you were doing so, odd," Dean said with a shrug, "She made me think I was doing something else. Thankfully Sammy was around though."

"Saved your ass you mean?" John replied automatically, instantly regretting what he said when he saw the poisonous look Dean shot at him.

"Yes dad, I'm well aware that Sam had to save me!" Dean barked. " I know I screwed up."

"I didn't mean it like that." John confessed, "It's just..."

"What?" Dean demanded. "Because from where I'm sitting, you are in no position what so ever to even think about lecturing me on how I should have handled things."

"I'm not passing judgement," John quickly said.

"Like hell you're not." Dean growled. "Look, let's just get back to the apartment. You go get the Colt and we'll waste those freaking son-of-a-bitches and get the hell on with our lives."

John glanced wearily over at Dean and took a deep breath. "There may be a slight problem with that plan," John said simply. "I don't have the Colt."

Dean's eyes widened, "Tell me you're joking right? Ah crap!"

John shook his head as the words digested in the car; he could almost predict the next question from his eldest's mouth.

"So where is it?" Dean demanded.

"It's somewhere safe." John muttered.

"And that's it?" Dean demanded, "You hide the one weapon we have to fight these things somewhere safe and won't even tell me where?"

"That's not exactly true, I didn't say I wouldn't tell you where it is." John replied hotly as he glanced over at Dean.

"Is that right, so where is it?" Dean demanded, his hands folded against his chest.

John looked awkwardly at Dean, "I can't tell you…"

"Oh this is just damn brilliant!" Dean shouted in frustration, "Why did you even bother coming back?"

"To be with my sons. Believe it or not Dean, I care about what happens to you and your brother." John said. "And I will tell you where the Colt is, I just can't really tell you right now."

Dean flopped back in his seat and ground his teeth in annoyance; he could feel his father's eyes on him.

"We'll find a way to stop these things…" John said calmly. " I promise."

"No offence dad, but your promises don't really hold much weight with me," Dean said, "And you're right, we will find a way to stop these things; on our own. Sam and I. We don't need your help; we don't need you back in our lives screwing up everything again."

"You don't mean that Dean, you're just angry," John said, his attention now back on the road.

Dean sniffed in response, "Believe me dad, you don't know the half of it."

"You're probably right there." John admitted, "But if these demons really feed off their set emotions, you better find a way to can that anger of yours."

Dean shot his father a poisonous look, but knew he was right. Allowing his anger to rule his head would only draw the demons to him like a bull to a red rag. They were already gunning for their hides, why invite them over for desert?

"Let's just get back to Sam." Dean grunted as he slumped in his seat. "I got a bad feeling about this whole freaking thing."

* * *

Sam had dragged himself over to the couch and was slowly lifting up his t-shirt and staring at where should have been a deep, if not, life-threatening stab wound. Instead, now sat nothing more than a scratch and the more he stared at it, the younger Winchester could have sworn it was shrinking right before his eyes. In a matter of minutes, it had healed to nothing more than a faint scar, now matching the other one he had on his stomach.

That was twice now he'd been stabbed by this guy, and twice the wounds had healed and vanished all by themselves.

If this didn't rate high on Sam's freaky list, he wasn't sure what would.

Pulling down his t-shirt, his fingers wiggled through the hole where the knife had gone through and his fingertips touched the cold, wet blood which had come from the wound.

This was beyond bizarre.

He jumped when he heard the front door open with a noisy bang and breathed out a sigh in relief when he saw Dean barge through followed by their weary looking father.

"What happened?" Sam asked, concern written on his face as his eyes urgently gave his brother a once over. His older brother looked physically fine, but that didn't mean he was.

"Dad?" Sam asked, "What happened with Inhibitions?"

"She's a freak, that's what happened." Dean said, walking over to the fridge and yanking it open. Upon finding the fridge empty of beer, he snatched a soda, popped it open, and took a long swig from it.

Sam's eyes were still staring at Dean, who rolled his own in annoyance,

"She was spouting off about some kind of Key." Dean muttered. "God knows about half the crap she was on about."

"Can you be a bit more specific Dean?" Sam snapped, growing irritated at his family's behaviour.

"You know, the usual," Dean said coming out of the kitchen and walking over to Sam who was still sitting on the couch. "If we don't give her what she wants, she's gonna kill us, you know, the usual..."

"And she was asking for a Key?" Sam said shaking his head. " What on earth is this key?"

"I was hoping you'd know." Dean said scrubbing a hand over his tired features as his eyes came to rest again on Sam. It didn't take him long to pick up on the place Sam was clearly trying to hide. "What the hell happened to you?"

Dean was kneeling down in front of Sam, his hands already searching his younger brother's side. Sam instantly batted the hands away.

"It's nothing," Sam said, not wanting Dean to explore further, because the truth was, he had no way of explaining the invisible wound.

"Nothing? Dude, you're bleeding, what happened to you?" Dean demanded, glancing up at Sam.

John was already walking towards the couch, the tone in his eldest son's voice causing him to move. "Sammy?"

"Look, it's just a scratch, which is gone now." Sam said, waving them off. "Can we focus on the important thing here, like figuring out how to kill these things?"

Dean looked at him dubiously, "It's a scratch that's gone, just like the last one?"

Sam sighed in annoyance, "You're like a freaking dog with a bone."

"Well call me Cujo, cause this dog's getting answers." Dean muttered as he stood to his height and looked at Sam, "Don't make me pull you up."

Sam shot his father a look for help, but John simply shrugged his shoulders, "Don't look at me."

Annoyed, Sam got to his feet and allowed Dean to pull up his t-shirt and examine the spot. It was now Dean's turn to look annoyed.

"Where did the wound go, what happened?" Dean demanded, "Sam, who was in here with you?"

"Cameron Davis was." Sam muttered, yanking his shirt down. "And salt, nor candles effect that son of a bitch, trust me on that."

"Cameron? Wait, where do I know that name from?" Dean said, scrubbing his face as he studied Sam.

"From the carnival, it was that guy we were watching at the contest with the weedy looking guy." Sam explained, "He was there with those two…"

"Lydia and Sandy." Dean breathed as he sunk down onto the couch, "Holy shit, we walked straight into this!"

"Sons of Bitches must have followed us from Lincoln! They were simply just waiting for us to settle so they could pounce." Sam explained as a smile filtered to his face, "But little did they know, that I figured out how to ventilate them."

Dean grinned, nodding at Sam, " That's right, the bullets, god do I love that you're a geek freak!"

"Thanks." Sam muttered dubiously, "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

"So how do you plan we do this? Round them up, draw them to us, and then take them all out at once? I think that's the best plan. If we kill them all at once, then they don't have the time to re-divide the powers and they can't get any stronger," Dean said as he paced the room thinking out loud.

Sam's hazel eyes narrowed, "Clearly, you haven't been paying attention to this whole thing as it happened."

Dean scowled at him, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that they're not human." Sam said simply, "Cameron, Lydia and Sandy all died in a car accident three months ago."

"Yeah, my heart bleeds for them." Dean muttered, "Weren't you the one who told me that these bodies are only possessed by Alchemists because they were, in every sense of the word, evil while they were actually alive?"

Sam considered the thought, "In a nutshell, those three died driving away from an armed robbery. They killed four people in that botched attempt and opened fire at the police."

"Sound like real angels." Dean muttered as he studied Sam's gun sitting on the kitchen counter, "That all ready to go?"

Sam glanced back at the gun and nodded, "Yup, I hope I remembered the potion correctly, I wasn't exactly keeping track last time."

"Final escape plan of a desperate man huh?" Dean said trying to ignore the guilt pangs that danced in his chest.

"Yeah, but it worked out in the end." Sam said trying to brighten Dean's darkening mood. His brother didn't need a trip down depression lane, not when they had to take out three badass zombie-like Alchemists who could turn their asses into mincemeat.

"Ok, so I don't think we'll be able to take out all three with just the bullets. I'm good but I'm not that good." Sam chuckled. "So I reckon if we can lure out at least two, trap them, we can allow the power to go to the last one…"

"Whoa, hang on a friggin' second." Dean cut Sam off as he shot a look at their silent father who was simply watching and listening. "You want the power to go to the final one? Sam we barely managed to hang Wallis' hide out to dry when they were at their weakest - and you want us to risk turning the final one into an apocalyptic machine?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "If you'd have let me finish, you would have heard me say, we can then use the Colt to take out the final one. It's the only way I can think of to kill Fear off. After all, it can kill anything, remember?"

Dean laughed dryly and spun on his heel to look at his father who looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

"Sammy, you think the Colt is the best option to killing this thing? And why would Fear be the last one standing?"

Sam gave his family a funny look and shook his head, clearly confused as to the private joke taking place between John and his brother.

"I had Fear in here, he's a shapeshifter as well, can turn himself into anything." Sam said pointedly to Dean. " He pretended to be you on more than one occasion."

Dean finally nodded, "Evil Dean, well can't knock the guy, at least he chose to come as the good-looking one."

"Dean…" John scolded.

"He means business and I don't mean the happy kind that ends with a Champagne dinner." Sam pointed out. "He wants this freaking Key and he's not gonna stop until he gets it."

"Sounds like he's gonna be a bundle of joy." Dean muttered. "I don't get why you won't take all three out at once, why would we want that loon free and on our tails?"

"Because I have to make sure all the powers pass to him." Sam explained. "And it gets more complicated than that, they can't be in their meat suits when we shoot them."

"Yeah, I figured that." Dean nodded. "When I took out Wallis, he was all demon, and then he went down in a smoking pile of ash."

"So it's not too complicated." Sam chuckled. "All we've got to do, is draw the girls out of their meat suits, trap them, and then shoot them."

"Sounds like a normal day at the office." Dean muttered sarcastically. "But of course, our lives are never that simple, now are they Sammy?"

Sam's eyes looked worryingly at Dean, "What's going on?"

"Well, the part about the Colt being our only way out of this mess…" Dean said standing now and looking from his father to brother. "You sure about that?"

"Dean I don't know another way to take Fear out, and if we don't kill him, then I'm gonna die." Sam said simply.

Dean whirled to face Sam, " What did you just say?"

"Fear, on his little visit he explained a couple of things, in fact he was quite the chatty demon." Sam explained. "Said that Inhibitions and Anger had already consumed you," Sam said nodding towards Dean, "Said that you were so angry at dad, your anger alone would kill him, and then grief would kill you."

"Grief, over who?" Dean asked, confused.

"Me." Sam said simply. "Fear's locked his sights on me. Says he knows what to switch on in my head to scare me to death, literally."

"This just gets better and better." Dean muttered in annoyance as he angrily turned to look at his father.

"That's why we need the Colt. It's the only way that I know of to kill Fear." Sam shrugged.

"Well in that case, dad has something he'd like to tell you, don't you dad?" Dean snapped. "Tell him the good news?"

John's eyes narrowed on Dean's face. "We'll figure this out Sammy, I promise. I won't let anything bad happen to you or your brother. As long as there is breath in my body, I'll keep you both safe."

Sam's eyes gently pleaded with his father, "Where's the Colt?"

John tore his eyes away from his son's, "It's not here."

Sam looked straight at Dean and the anger that radiated off his older brother was more than enough to bring any Alchemist knocking on their door.

"Can you get it?" Sam asked in a small voice. "We can buy you some time."

John shook his head, "I don't have access to it at the moment."

"Why not?" Dean demanded. "Where have you been all this time? What have you done with the Colt?"

"Things will be ok boys, I promise." John walked closer to them, but both boys backed off.

"You promise? Your promises mean shit to us!" Dean shouted.

"We're dead." Sam said simply sinking onto the couch, "Dad, without the Colt, we're dead!"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it; please leave a little review if you get the chance. Hope to update on Wednesday or Thursday.**


	17. Ventilation

**

* * *

**

I'm actually really proud of myself for updating so fast ! I'm holding my muse hostage at the moment, so enjoy this chapter. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews, story alerts and author alerts. Always a great feeling seeing them and of course fabulous encouragement to keep going.

**Chapter 17- Ventilation **

Dean Winchester drummed his fingers against the couch arm as he broodily studied his father. John was standing out in the sunshine on the deck, his cell phone glued to his ear. He'd been like that ever since Sam had pretty much compelled them all to death with the fact that their get out of jail free card weapon, had been left behind somewhere.

It's where it had been left behind that bothered Dean the most.

He's hazel green eyes shifted to Sam sitting at the kitchen counter with some books open and a pen in his hand. His own hazel eyes, however, were staring off into space.

The youngest Winchester jumped when Dean suddenly appeared in his line of sight.

"What do you think he's doing out there?" Dean asked with a growl as he glared at his father's back.

"If he's got any sense left working in his head, he's getting the Colt back," Sam said with a nod, sighing heavily. Dean patted his wrist and Sam managed a smile for his older brother's sake.

"Do you believe him?" Sam asked after a beat, turning his soft eyes to his older brother. Dean stood by his side as he hunched over the counter on his stool. "Did you believe anything he said?"

"About keeping us safe?" Dean wondered as he stared at John's back, "I want to…"

"But you can't?" Sam finished for him and Dean shrugged, "Dean there's something I need to tell you, and I don't really know how."

Dean now turned his attention away from his father's increasingly agitated figure on the deck and towards the sullen figure that was masquerading as his baby brother.

He dragged a stool out and sat beside him.

"Think I better sit down for this one," Dean quipped as he faced Sam, "What's on your mind?"

Sam studied Dean's face for a second and cast a lingering glance at his father on the decking.

"When Cameron paid me that visit today," Sam started, "he said . . . he said that dad was lying to us, to me, about something." Sam said, a questioning look in his eyes.

Dean instantly spotted it and his own eyes grew darker.

"And you assume I know?" Dean demanded, "In case it slipped your notice, dad bailed on the both of us and it's not like he's been slipping me coded messages Sam."

"I know, I know." Sam said, accepting his brother's understandable annoyance, " I just wonder what he meant by it."

"Demons lie Sam, that's what they do," Dean said, shaking his head. Judging from his younger brother's expression though, Sam wasn't so sure.

"What exactly did he say?" Dean questioned as he propped his chin up with his arm.

"He said that I had no idea what our dad had gotten us into," Sam said with a rueful smile, "And it didn't sound like a massive celebration to make up for all our missed birthdays, if you catch my drift."

Dean chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. "And your kooky brain is thinking, whatever demon boy told you is tied to the fact that dad no longer has the Colt."

"It's a possibility." Sam admitted.

"Well, dad may not ever win any father of the freakin year competitions, but I can't see him honestly selling us out with the Colt." Dean admitted, "I think I believe him when he said he'd put it some place safe, stupidly put it some place safe, but I do believe him on that."

Sam nodded quietly, but he was pretty certain that Dean was reading every inch of his face as if he was the latest Beano comic.

"But you are clearly not so sure." Dean sighed, "You really think that dad would have sold us out over the Colt?"

"I don't know what to think, other than we need to find another way to kill these Alchemists before they realise we're sitting ducks." Sam shrugged, " We also got to start figuring out what the hell this Key is."

"I've been thinking about that," Dean said as he hopped off the stool and left the apartment through the front door.

It was Sam's turn to bite his bottom lip in confusion and wonder where on earth his older brother had gone.

* * *

"The key of Solomon?" Sam asked sceptically as his older brother dumped the heavy dusty book on the kitchen counter. "You think the Alchemists are after the Key of Solomon?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and looked at both his father and brother. John was now standing at the kitchen counter staring at the old book.

"It at least has the word Key in it," Dean said by way of explanation. "I don't see you guys coming up with anything else."

"Son, I can't even begin to wonder why a couple of demons would want a book an old man gave you," John said as he randomly opened the book to a page and let his fingers run over the old text.

A smirk danced on Dean's lip.

"And I wonder why Bobby tried to shoot your ass full of buck shot?" Dean grinned. "I may just pass that information onto him, dad."

"Dad's got a point Dean," Sam said as he glanced at the page John had open and then looked at his brother. "Sure this book has some great spells and rituals and what not, but there is no chance in hell that they are after this."

"And what makes you such an expert, Sammy?" Dean challenged. "That thing was locked up under a Devil's Trap in the Impala. Even if they wanted it, they couldn't get it without getting themselves trapped." Dean explained, "My theory fits with what they are saying.

They keep asking us to give them the Key; well, since it's trapped in the trunk, technically we are the only ones who can give it to them."

John considered his eldest son's theory for a moment and nodded, then glanced at his youngest son who was sitting beside him at the counter.

"He's got a point there Sam." John admitted.

"Yeah and it would have worked but for one flaw," Sam admitted, taking a deep breath in and trying to avoid looking at his father. "The night Cameron came in here and tried to kill me, the book was sitting right there on the coffee table. While I was busy going hysterical and bleeding to death, he could have picked it up and just left."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Guess that blows that theory then."

John's eyes flew from Dean and then to his youngest son.

"What happened that night?" John demanded. "Look, I'm not stupid!"

"That's still up for debate," Dean muttered.

"Dean!" Sam snapped, praying that his father was about to drop the subject.

Dean gave his brother his most innocent smile.

"Nothing dad. It's in the past, nothing for you to worry about," Sam said, smiling warmly at his father. "Did you make progress in getting the Colt back?"

John studied Sam's face carefully, knowing full well that his son had quietly switched the subject away from the actual topic and onto a different one that John wasn't so keen on talking about.

"I'm doing my best," John said simply.

"Does your best come with an ETA, cause we're on the clock here." Dean muttered as he flopped down onto the couch and looked at his father.

"No, Dean, it doesn't." John muttered as he saw Sam wince slightly and rubbed the side of his head. "Maybe we should start looking into re-modifying Sam's potion, it's the best bet we've got."

"Maybe an exorcism to go with it, or an incantation," Sam said with a shrug, letting his head flop back as he tried to work the knots out if his neck.

"Sammy, you ok?" Dean asked from the couch.

"Yeah, just feel a little weird." Sam admitted as he got off the stool and felt the room sway on his standing. John's hand clamped tightly around his wrist to hold him steady. "And clearly a little dizzy."

"Maybe you should get some rest," Dean said, already getting up from his seat. John, however, waved him off.

"I think I will," Sam agreed, which simply worried Dean more. Being stubborn was part of Sam's wonderful DNA. Simply giving up and surrendering to a command spoke volumes as to how much pain he must have had.

Dean watched in annoyance as his father helped Sam into his bedroom. Not one to be left out and feeling his helplessness grow, Dean crossed the short distance from the living room to the kitchen counter, picked up Sam's gun and trotted into his brother's bedroom with it.

"Shhh!" John hissed at him as he pulled the covers over Sam who lay on his side.

"He's asleep already?" Dean asked in surprise. "I've never seen anyone fall asleep so fast."

"Well, he really doesn't look very well, in fact he looks exhausted." John admitted as he held his hand out for the gun. Dean simply checked the safety, walked around the other side of the bed and placed it on the nightstand.

John sighed heavily as he watched his youngest sleeping. Painful memories sifted through him and he found himself hoping that things were really ok with Sam.

"Why are you fighting me on this Dean.?" John asked weariness evident in his voice.

Dean's eyes narrowed at his father, "Thought you just told me to shh, he's trying to sleep."

John simply stared at his son as Dean walked out the bedroom. Sighing, John adjusted Sam's covers, his fingers lightly brushing his son's brown hair, and quietly pulled the door behind him as he left the room.

"I think I need to know exactly what's been going on here, don't you?" John asked as he walked into the centre of the room, his eyes never leaving his eldest son.

"It's funny, because I don't." Dean said roughly. "So we seriously have a problem now."

"What happened with Sam; why's he not better yet?" John demanded. "The kid looks like crap."

Dean marched over to his father, anger clear in his eyes. "Don't you even dare."

"You're supposed to be looking out for him, Dean. He looks worse now than when they originally brought him in from the crash." John explained. "I understand you guys had to get away the hospital, but that's no excuse . . ."

"You can just stop right now!" Dean snapped. "Who the hell do you think you are? You lost the right to stand there and question me the day you walked away from your son who was dying in that hospital."

John clenched his jaw tight, feeling the muscle twitch as he studied his son.

"You stand there and ask me why Sam is in that condition, well guess what, dad." Dean spat. "If you'd even given a flying fuck about either of us, you would have stuck around long enough to know what happened. You have no idea what we've been through; what I've been through."

"I know you're angry." John admitted, deciding that adding fuel to the fire wouldn't have been the smartest route to take. Besides, everything his son was yelling at him was nothing but cold hard facts . . . the truth, and John Winchester couldn't argue with the truth, no matter how hard it was to listen to.

"Angry?" Dean growled. "You know, I can just about understand why you walked away from me, I was at least getting better, but Sam? He was dying dad, barely hanging on, and you packed up and left him. How do you do that? How do you walk away like that from someone you're supposed to love?"

"There are reasons, Dean; reasons that I will tell you and explain in the future. I prom-" John started when Dean cut him off mid-sentence.

"You know, when he came around, I had to convince him that you hadn't bailed on him. I lied to him and told him that you were still around here. It's what kept him going, kept him fighting. I hated every single second of having to lie to him, to pretend to be happy and that everything was ok when I was falling apart!" Dean ranted. "You didn't give a shit what happened to us. All that bull about us being a family, all that crap about this being our fight — Sam was right all along, this is just your crusade on your stupid revenge."

" It's not like that Dean." John explained as he took a step towards his son. "It's not like that at all."

"You think this is what mom would have wanted?" Dean blurted out, his face livid. "You think she would have wanted this for us?"

"Dean . . ." John whispered, stunned to hear his eldest son even mention his mother, never mind bring her into the equation.

"I did everything you ever asked of me. Followed every order, gave my all!" Dean hissed as he took a deep breath, trying to steady his frayed nerves. "I even took your side, which I should never have done, when you fought with Sam."

Dean took a step towards his father, his fingers closing, balling them into fists.

"And you just left me." Dean whispered, his voice so raw and cold it made John's stomach lurch. "I have never asked you for anything in my life, and the one time I needed you more than anything, more than anyone else- you chose the hunt over me, over both your kids, your family."

"I'm here now." John feebly whispered as he kept his eyes on his advancing son.

"I needed you and you left me!" Dean yelled, his voice thundering around the apartment. "You lying son of a bitch."

"Dean!" John shouted as he saw a set of lime green orbs appear from behind his son. "You have got to calm down. You have got calm down right this minute!"

"Don't you get it? Stop telling me what to do!" Dean screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls in the apartment.

John's eyes just stared at the figure that was beginning to appear behind Dean.

"The Alchemists, Dean, they're here." John growled out. "You have got to calm down right now. They're feeding off your anger."

"And who's fault is that?" Dean spat as he advanced towards his father. "How many times did I tell you to leave, how many times did I tell you today to go away and stop screwing up our lives!"

John backed up a few steps, trying to keep the distance between him and his enraged son, but also to draw Dean away from the green eyed figure that was trying to form behind him.

"You know, that's cute."

John crashed into something hard behind him. He turned and found his eyes staring into the eyes of the woman who had earlier been lounging across the Impala.

"How you doing, sweet cheeks?" Lydia said. "In case you hadn't quite figured it out yet, salt lines don't keep us out." She whispered in his ear confidentially.

"Dean, snap out of this, look around, look around you!" John commanded his voice sharp and strong. "That's an order Dean, snap out of it!"

Lydia walked over to Dean and draped her arm over his shoulder. "Now, now daddy, where would be the fun in that?"

Dean's eyes had gone cloudy; his eldest son had all but stopped moving and was just staring ahead.

"My sister's a bit hungry; she's been on a diet waiting for Dean here to blow." Lydia explained as she pointed a finger at the hideous black form with ugly, lime green eyes.

"No point keeping her waiting."

Lydia's own eyes flashed orange and she pulled Dean close to her.

"**He left you, poor old Dean Winchester, daddy didn't care. Daddy just abandoned you and you know why? Because he doesn't love you, he doesn't love you or that dead beat brother of yours. You're just balls around his ankles, chains he can't shake free of."**

"Shut your lying, stinking mouth!" John shouted at her as he ran at the demonic woman. Lydia simply smiled and flicked her wrist out sending the older hunter crashing into the coffee table.

"Play nicely John-boy," Lydia said, her sapphire blue eyes killing out any original colour from her eyes. "The fun hasn't even started, yet. You wait until my brother gets a hold of Sam."

"You leave them out of this." John snapped. "This war is between us."

"You see, John, that's your mistake right there . . . assuming this is about you." Lydia explained. "It's not about you. It's never been about you."

John tried to pick himself up from the floor, but Lydia held him still.

"It's about them." Lydia cooed, her fingers dancing on Dean's cheekbone and brushing his ear and hair. "I want the Key."

"I'll kill you." John snarled from his subdued position.

"No, he's gonna kill you." Lydia purred as she patted Dean's shoulder warmly, "I tell you what — we were wondering how we were gonna kill you, but you made it way to easy for us, John. Abandoning your children while they lay dying, of course, one of them did die and you just walked away and let him go. He doesn't know that yet, does he? That daddy watched him die and still left. Poor old Sammy! When he finds out that he means that little to you, how do you think he'll feel? I'd take a stab in the dark and say that you not loving him is probably one of his biggest fears."

"No!" John whispered as panic swarmed through him.

"Oops, I think I hit a nerve there, right?" Lydia smiled as she reached up and kissed Dean's earlobe, a grin spreading on her face, "But, I'm a caring, kind person. I think I'll save you the pain of watching your children die."

"Dean!" John yelled. "Come on, son."

"Yell all you want. You see the only voice that Dean can hear is mine." Lydia scoffed. "We're so close, like two souls linked." She whispered with a grin.

"**Come on, Dean, you don't have to worry about anything. You can kill him; take that miserable, abusive, evil man to his grave, That same man who's made your entire existence miserable. Blamed you for every mistake that ever happened. It's just you and him now Dean, nobody else. Sammy can't hear anything. You can say it was an accident."**

Dean's head turned towards his father.

"**All that pain he put you through, all those years of hunting, of you being part of the family business, when in reality, you were nothing but collateral to him, foot soldiers in a war he was willing to win at all costs."**

"Dean don't you listen, you're stronger than that bitch. I know you, I raised you and I didn't raise a fool." John snapped. "Snap out of this Dean, you're the strongest person I know."

"I don't think he's listening." Lydia teased as she walked over to John who was still pinned to the debris that had previously been the coffee table. "Any last requests, ooh, I know, burial or cremation?"

John simply grunted as he tugged uselessly against the invisible force.

"Oh you bore me, John Winchester. I tell you what, you don't live up to your hype." Lydia said, walking over to Dean.

"Time to take this home, sweetie." Lydia cooed in Dean's ear, her eyes falling on the ghostly green figure of Anger which hovered in the back ground.

"**Kill him, there's no consequences, nothing will happen. One quick bullet to the brain and you'll finally be free. Beat him to death with a chair leg, whatever takes your fancy, you can be as quick as you want or as slow as you want."**

Dean's eyes fell to the broken table leg at his father's side. His fingers wrapped around it as he pulled it high above his head.

"Dean!" John shouted, hoping beyond hope that his eldest son could hear him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I caused you so much pain. I know you can hear me. I love you, son, I do. You and your brother are the most important things in the world to me."

Lydia rolled her eyes and waved her hand at Dean, jerking the table leg with the movement.

"**Kill him."**

Dean brought the table leg down with every ounce of force he could muster.

Dean's face was void of emotion as Lydia grinned and sucked in a breath.

"That's my baby." Lydia cooed as Dean pulled the table leg high in the air and was stopped when Lydia wrapped her arms around Dean's waist and pulled him close to her; her lips moving daringly towards his.

"God, watching you work like that makes me so hot!" The demon breathed huskily as she felt Dean's lips melt onto hers.

"Hey!" A voice snarled from the doorway.

Lydia spun on her heels to be greeted by the sound of a gun being fired rapidly in her direction.

"Kiss this, bitch!"

* * *

**OOoh, what do say about best laid plans..? Hope you guys are still enjoying it. If you get a chance please leave a review. Until next week Xxxx**


	18. Daddy knows Best

**Real life is getting in the way again. Apologises for the long delay in posting. Thank you all so much for all the reviews :o) That helped get my butt in gear and start writing again. One good piece of news is that I finally have the ending noted down and I'm heading in that direction. This story is drawing to a close where most questions will be answered; and a whole lot more asked to lead us into the next story.**

**Thanks for all your support and I hope you enjoy this chapter- it's a little longer to make up for the lack of updates in between.**

**Chapter 18- Daddy Knows Best**

The bullets tore through the air and thudded into Lydia's form, causing her to shake furiously.

Dean Winchester's body simply stood frozen as his eyes stared down at his father.

John Winchester, however, watched opened mouthed at what formerly was known as Lydia.

The host's body evaporated into thin air leaving a writhing black mass with terracotta eyes blazing in pain and anger.

There was a loud pop and then nothing.

Nothing but a pile of ash on the spot where the blond had earlier stood.

And now there was nothing but a dusty grey pile.

Inhibitions was dead.

Sam Winchester braced furiously against his doorframe, turned to the green-eyed mass that slithered over towards him at astounding speed. The youngest Winchester managed to empty the remaining bullets into the green eyed demon.

But nothing happened.

In rage, the demon simply pulled Sam from his feet, waved a hand in his direction, and the youngest of the Winchesters found himself flying in the air and crash landing behind the couch.

Screaming in rage, Anger disappeared.

Dean Winchester's eyes finally focused on the situation that lay before him and he all but shrieked at the smouldering pile of ash not so far from his foot.

"I…" Dean whispered taking a tentative step away from the grey ashes, "I did not do that!

His eyes widened again as he looked down at his hand, saw his father lying on the floor amongst the debris that looked like their coffee table, noticed the table leg in his hand and dropped the item as if he'd been scalded.

"Dean?" John called loudly, his voice heavy and laced with pain. "Dean?"

Dean's hazel green eyes tried to take in everything that had happened, everything he'd done - and then he realised he couldn't take anything else in.

Instead, he heard his father calling his name, over and over again, while the ground seemed to be approaching faster and faster.

And then finally, there was no more sound and the world faded into darkness.

* * *

"Sam?" John whispered, his hand moving gently on his son's forehead. "Sammy?"

"Ummm…" Sam murmured softly, as his hazel eyes flickered open for a moment, studying his dad. "You ok?"

John chuckled as he tenderly eased his youngest into a sitting position and let him lean against his body for support. John couldn't help but notice the shudders and shivers that seemed to stream from Sam's body.

"I should be asking you that, kiddo," John said with a grin. "What on earth were you thinking?"

Sam closed his eyes and allowed the back of his head to rest momentarily against his father's shoulder. "Couldn't exactly stand there and watch Dean club you to death like a baby seal."

The passing comment sobered John's thinking instantly.

"You hurt?" Sam asked his father again, his head still not lifted from its resting spot.

"Nothing your old man can't handle." John admitted, wondering if his ribs were just badly bruised or actually broken.

"Is Dean ok?" Sam asked, finally lifting his head and staring into his father's eyes.

"Yeah, Sammy, he's fine. He's just sleeping." John explained. "On the couch."

"He's not hurt?" Sam questioned again.

"No. Thanks to you we got away better than expected." John admitted. "Let's worry about you though; you don't look so hot right now, Sammy."

Sam heaved a sigh into his exhausted body and managed a smile for his father.

"No pain no gain, right?" Sam said, studying his father for a few moments with glassy eyes. "Suck it up, that's what you always say."

John winced at his own words. He meant suck up a busted ankle, a sprained wrist- not intensive care, comas and life support.

"How long you been feeling this rough?" John asked softly. "Cause don't lie to me. I know you're sick; I can see it in your face."

"I got to start borrowing Dean's game face." Sam kidded with a weary chuckle. "I'm fine dad, nothing a couple hours sleep and some Tylenol won't fix."

John gently stroked a few strands of dark hair off his son's face and felt his heart plunge to the bottom of his feet.

How could he have been so stupid to have walked away from his boys like this?

He'd almost lost Sam, at one point had completely lost him. Even seeing his son's death hadn't made him want to stick around — it had made him run. He'd wanted to get away from that pain, that loss, that sense of failure so much that he didn't even think about the people he was running from and the pain he was leaving them in.

"I'm sorry I left you, Sammy." John whispered, pulling his son to him and holding him close. He rested his chin on top of Sam's head and sighed heavily. "Son, I'm so sorry."

Sam pulled away slightly and looked at his father. "I was gonna say, I understand, but truth is, I don't."

"I know." John admitted, still playing with Sam's hair. "But that will never happen again, ok? Whatever we do from now on, it'll be me, you, and Dean. Us, a family."

"Really?" Sam finally whispered. "You're not gonna just shoot off?"

"Not a chance in hell." John promised, pinching his chin playfully. "We'll get rid of these pain in the ass Alchemists and then get a place where we can settle down for a while; get you all better. After that, we'll see what we want to do."

Sam smiled brightly as he felt his father shift against him and rise to his knees, carefully keeping hold of his youngest son so he wouldn't fall.

"How about we get you to a more comfortable place?" John said with a smile. "I need to check on Dean."

"Thought you said he wasn't hurt." Sam worriedly asked as his father gingerly pulled him to his feet. Sam waited for the room to stop spinning and finally took a step forward.

"He's not hurt. It's just, well, you've both been out for a while." John admitted as he nodded towards the veranda door.

It was dark outside.

Sam gave his father an awkward look. "Out for a while, that's sounds like a friggin' understatement, didn't I just have breakfast?"

John laughed. "I guess you hit your head harder than I thought you did."

Sam carefully, with his father's help, trudged through the apartment and was eased down onto the two-seater couch. His hazel eyes fell on his elder brother's sleeping form on the sofa.

"At least Lydia can't screw with him anymore," Sam said with a defiant nod as he let his back lean against the couch, wondering if the marching band that had taken up residence in his head knew of a different tune to play.

John picked up one of the strewn dining table chairs and righted it. With dark eyes he glanced at his two kids.

"I think I'm gonna give Bobby a call, see if the old man has any tricks up his sleeves in taking these things out," John said after careful thought.

Dean stirred on the couch and with sleepy eyes, and peered out at his family.

"You look great." Dean muttered sarcastically as he stared at Sam.

"Right back at ya," Sam said, tossing a cushion at Dean's head. "How you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Dean said, pushing the blanket off and swinging his legs over the end of the couch. "What time is it?"

"Almost 7pm," John said from the other side of the room. "I'll see if I can rustle us up some dinner."

Dean opened his mouth for a moment and then glanced at Sam.

John finally flicked the main lights on in the apartment, flooding the place with light. Sam squinted at the intrusive light that only seemed to add to the marching band in his head.

"Tell me you didn't…" Dean's voice said sharply, cutting through Sam's pain instantly.

"Didn't what?" Sam asked, allowing his eyes to finally adjust and follow where his elder brother was staring.

Dean was staring at the grey pile of ashes.

"Sammy?" Dean snapped. "Why?"

"Look, don't 'Sammy' me!" Sam snapped, equally annoyed by what Dean was implying. "I was not just gonna stand there and watch you kill dad!"

"I'd have never actually killed him!" Dean shouted. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Kept us all alive for another 24 hours or so?" Sam muttered sarcastically.

"Don't get cute." Dean snapped. "We talked about this; we talked about taking two of them out at once, not taking them out individually. You were the one who was singing in my ear that they were more powerful if we picked them off one at a time."

"Look, you would have killed dad, and then probably have killed yourself." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"How can you even be sure of that?" Dean barked. "You don't think I couldn't have fought it?"

"That's the whole freaking point, Dean. You couldn't have fought it; you weren't in control. That's how it works, it wants you to think that you're having a choice in the matter, but you're not," Sam said heatedly. "I did what I had to do — I don't have any regrets."

"Even now we've still got Fear and Anger on our tails?" Dean snapped.

John stared at his sons with raised eyebrows.

"Is there any point me saying to play nice until I get back?" John asked as he shrugged on his jacket and searched it for his keys.

"Where are you going?" Dean demanded. "Taking off again?"

John's eyes narrowed. "No, Dean, I'm going to get us dinner and pick something up for your brother's headache."

Dean glanced over at Sam, who seemed to be shrinking in his seat on the couch.

"Don't kill each other while I'm gone." John muttered as he opened the apartment door and disappeared, closing it quietly behind him.

Dean sighed loudly, got to his feet, and began to pick up the debris from the busted coffee table. He finally looked up at Sam, who was simply staring at him.

"I didn't mean to…" Dean mumbled awkwardly. "It's just.-"

Sam nodded. "I know. I'm sorry too."

Tossing the broken pieces back onto the floor, Dean sank beside Sam on the couch.

"You honestly think we can beat these guys?" Dean asked him quietly. "Cause I got to admit, Sammy, I'm beginning to have my doubts."

"I have to believe it," Sam said in a hushed tone. "I think who we choose to go after next though will be the key."

"We got no way of killing them," Dean said, shaking this head. "Your hoodoo bullets didn't take out that Anger freak."

"You remember that bit, huh?" Sam asked with a dry chuckle.

"I remembered you emptied the frigging gun into her," Dean said, shaking his head. "The Colt was our best option."

"Then we'll just have to find something else," Sam said with a heavy sigh. "Guess I could try and re-jig my potion or something."

"Ok, I'll try and research something," Dean said with a shrug. "I mean, these things must have come from somewhere, right? Someone must know something about them?"

Sam nodded, struggled to his feet, and headed into the kitchen.

Dean looked at the mess in the living area. "We got work to do."

* * *

"Indigo." Came a voice over the phone.

"Ben, its John," John said, hunched over his steering wheel as he sat in the parking lot of the local diner.

"Hold on a second." Ben replied.

John listened as the noisy background he'd originally caught his old friend in instantly died, and was greeted by silence now.

"You find your boys?" Ben asked urgently.

"Yeah I did, exactly where Alex said they would be. I owe him one." John said sincerely.

"But?" Ben asked, already sensing that one was on its way.

"But they are in some deep shit." John admitted. "I mean, I figured they would be in trouble, that's why they took off, but -"

"More trouble than you expected?" Ben guessed. "What's after them, besides Yellow Eyes?"

"Alchemists," John said. "I figured they were just the run of the mill kind, you know, correct knife, dipped in the right blood and bam they're gone."

"I'm gonna have to look into this a bit more, John. I'm not a walking encyclopaedia of the supernatural", Ben said with a chuckle. "But leave it with me."

"Thanks, but I don't think we have the time for you to do research," John said. "I need the Colt."

Ben groaned heavily. "We've been though this, John. The safest place for that gun to be is here with me."

"It's the only thing I have that I know can stop these things," John said coldly. "I won't have them hurt my kids."

"I know you're trying to protect them, really I do," Ben said calmly. "But it doesn't change the reason why you gave it to me in the first place."

John sighed in frustration as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew Ben was right, but he was beyond desperate now.

"Ben, those bastards almost killed them back there," John said. "And I couldn't do a damn thing to stop them — nothing."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Ben?"

"I'll see if I can send it to you," Ben said, annoyance clear in his voice. "But when your whole plan blows up in your face, let it be known that I warned you this shit could happen. Has it even occurred to you that these Alchemists could be after this friggin' gun?"

"Yes." John admitted. "But I don't care, I have to try. For my boys' sakes."

"Fine." Ben muttered. "Give me a couple hours and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Ben, I owe -" John started.

"Yeah, yeah yeah." Ben muttered. "The amount you owe me, buddy, you couldn't even pay me back. Just get those boys safe and bring them home to me. I want to finally see them for myself."

"I will," John said with a rare grin.

"And Johnny, don't go doing anything stupid and getting yourself killed, ok?" Ben threatened.

John simply laughed and disconnected the call.

His plan was slowly coming together.

* * *

"Poison?" Dean asked sceptically as he wrinkled his nose at the smell wafting around the kitchen. "You really think that could work?"

"It's the best idea I can think of," Sam said with a nod. "If I use the potion you used to make that poison for me, it could work with bullets."

Dean winced at Sam's choice of words and Sam groaned inwardly.

"I didn't mean it like that," Sam said quietly. "Dean, it was the past, a long time ago."

"It was a shitty two weeks ago, Sam." Dean muttered as he sank onto a counter seat, "And take it from someone who knows, that potion can kill."

"That's the whole point isn't it?" Sam said with a smile. "Only thing missing is arrow root."

"Bizarrely, that was what I ran out of when I was making it." Dean muttered. "What a sick coincidence!"

Sam chuckled and glanced up at Dean.

"I meant what I said Dean. That is in the past. I don't blame you for any of it." Sam said, sincerity clear in his voice. "Besides, this is good. If I use the original potion to make more bullets, and then take those and dip them in the poison, it should be enough to take them out."

"Yeah, the trick would be to take them both out at once," Dean said, drumming his fingers on the work surface. "That way it doesn't give the final one a chance to get stronger."

"I think it automatically happens," Sam said with a shake of his head. "I mean, just look what happened in here today. After Inhibitions got KO'd, it was less than a second before I turned the gun on Anger and it was about as useful as throwing confetti at it."

"True…" Dean nodded as he studied Sam for a second. "How's your head?"

Sam managed a smile as he glanced up. "I think I've got used to the whole marching band taking up residence in there."

"Dad was right." Dean admitted. "I should have got you some place safe and holed up until you were 100% better. I mean, we're all trying to concentrate on killing these Alchemists and forgetting the bigger picture here."

"What's bigger than trying to keep our butts alive?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"How about the fact that you died and came back, and we don't know why?" Dean started, which caused Sam to groan.

"Stop it, Dean, and for the record, I don't want you telling dad." Sam strongly added, "He feels bad enough for bailing, I mean really guilty, and we don't need to keep pushing him down."

Dean simply stared, but didn't agree.

"Also, how come you've been stabbed twice by Cameron and both times they've just vanished into thin air?" Dean questioned. "Not to mention the whole Key thing."

"That reminds me," Sam said, pausing and looking at his older brother. "Remember when this whole thing started? Well, the very first night I saw was one of those things in the mirror, it told me, and I quote 'He's the Key to you'."

"Who's the he?" Dean wondered, ignoring the expression on Sam's face.

Sam looked quietly at Dean, "Well, don't read me the riot act, but I kind of assumed that it was, well, you."

Dean turned and looked at him with questioning eyebrows, "And why on earth would you think that?"

Sam shrugged, "It makes sense, kind of."

"The hell it does," Dean said with a sniff. "The Key is a thing Sam, not a person."

"What makes you so sure?" Sam challenged. "It told me that, he was the key to you."

"Yeah, well, it also told me to give them the key." Dean countered. "Last time I checked, Sammy, you can't just hand over a person; they usually don't follow orders that quietly."

Sam pursed his lips as he considered Dean's words.

"Could it be both?" Sam wondered, which earned him raised eyebrows from Dean.

"Even in your freaky head, that can't make sense," Dean said with a chuckle. "How can it be a person and an object at the same time? Listen, you work on your potion, I'll go get some Arrow root."

"Alright," Sam said with a rueful nod. "Still think you may be wrong."

"Sam, I don't care if I'm wrong, the sooner we figure all this out the better our life expectancy will be - just prove that I'm wrong, that's all I'm asking." Dean said picking up his keys.

Sam watched as Dean headed towards the front door, when it opened nosily in front of him, making the elder boy jump.

John Winchester barrelled through, carrying take out bags and an unusual look on his face. Seeing Dean near the door, he gave his eldest a look.

"Going somewhere?" John asked as he placed the bags down on the kitchen table and began to take out the containers. "Cause you better eat this while this is hot."

"Giving me advice on how to eat my dinner?" Dean asked dubiously. "You guys eat, I'm gonna grab that Arrow root."

"Arrow root, what do you want that for?" John asked, opening a box of French fries and juicy beef burgers and sliding it towards his older son.

"A potion." Sam explained. "I was thinking maybe we could poison the bullets, you know, re-modify my original potion."

"Sounds like a plan, eat first and I'll run you down to the store and we can pick it up later on," John said as he pulled out the nearest chair and pointed at it, his eyes meeting Dean's. "So, sit and eat your dinner."

Dean's eyes narrowed at his father's behaviour, but a pleading look from Sam quieted him as he flopped down, annoyed, in the seat.

Sam sent him a gratefully whispered, thank-you, when their father hunted for glasses in the cupboard.

"Good," John said as he watched Sam sit down at the table opposite Dean. "Now, while I was out picking this stuff up, I was talking to - "

"Bobby?" Sam asked eagerly. "Does he know anything else?"

"Yeah, urm, Bobby," John said, brushing the subject away. "But it got me thinking about how to lure the others here, take them out before they get a chance to come near us."

"And what have you come up with?" Dean asked, taking a bite at the burger.

"We're gonna have to make it come to us, trick it in a way," John said, glancing at his sons in turn.

"You mean set a trap?" Sam said quietly as he studied both his father and his brother. "But you're gonna need bait…"

"That's right," John said, picking up a French fry of his own and placing it in his mouth.

"So how are we gonna do it?" Dean asked as he looked curiously at his father. "I mean the only way you're gonna be able to lure that thing to us is by exposing one of us to the demons."

"That's right," John said as he looked apprehensively at both his kids as realisation dawned on them both.

"You're gonna use us as bait?" Dean snapped. "Are you out of your freaking mind?"

"No, Dean you've got it wrong," John said with reassurance as he patted Dean's hand, who instantly pulled away in annoyance.

"I'm not going to use you for bait." John explained. "I'm gonna use Sam."

* * *

**Oooh, poor Sammy. After everything John said to his youngest son, why would he choose to use him as bait..? Tune in and find out. If you get a chance leave a little review, it's like cyber cookies. Until next time :o)**


	19. Catch 22

**It's hard when you're falling out of love with a show you used to enjoy. If you hadn't guessed, I'm not enjoying Season Four at all, and while I'm still watching, I'm praying that the second half of the season improves and we begin to see a resemblances of the show I first meet all those years ago.**

**On that note, I've just typed this all and decided to post it up. No beta this time, so all howlers belong to me. Thank you all to those who still review and PM and ask me when the next chapter is going up…this one is especially for you.**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

**Chapter 19- Catch 22**

" Are you out of your freaking mind…?!" Dean shouted, " You're not using Sam as bait…"

" Let's hear him out Dean…" Sam said in a calm tone, " You never know, it might work…"

" I don't care if it works or not…" Dean snapped, " What the hell is wrong with you Sam, didn't you hear what he just said, he wants to use you as bait. Your own father wants to string you out to some Fear demon to lure it here…"

" It's not like that Dean…" John reassured.

" Oh really…?" Dean shouted as he stood up from the table, his appetite ruined.

" Ok, it's exactly like that, but I wouldn't let anything happen to Sam.." John yelled after his pacing elder son, who'd gone into the living area. John's eyes fell back on Sam, " You do believe me Sammy, I won't let anything happen to you, I promise…"

Sam studied his father's face for a moment. It was pleading for help, for back up, for someone to be on his side. The younger boy wondered if this was how Dean used to feel being stuck in the middle of one of their numerous arguments.

But then again, he hadn't been fighting with his father over using Dean for bait.

" Sam..?" John said again, his warm hand covering his youngest sons. " Please, just hear me out.."

Sam finally nodded and slipped out of his seat and headed into the living room. He found Dean staring out of the veranda doors an angry look clearly etched on his face.

" Dean, come on…" Sam reasoned, " This is dad we're talking about, he wouldn't let anything bad happen to me…"

" Really..?" Dean hissed as he spun to look at his younger brother, " Cause correct me if I've got my facts wrong, but isn't this the same man who left you to die in a hospital bed…"

" Be fair Dean, he didn't know how ill I was. Come on, man, do you honestly believe that dad would have walked away if he knew how sick I really was..?" Sam said walking over to Dean and standing beside him, " If dad had been at the hospital when I died, do you think he'd have actually left you, left us, or do you think he would have stayed..?"

" Why are you taking his side..?" Dean sadly asked as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

" I'm not, I'm just saying that dad loves us and wouldn't let anything happen to either of us intentionally…" Sam said with a heavy sigh as he put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder warmly and Dean finally turned to face him.

" Humour him…." Sam asked in his infamous puppy way, " Please, for me…"

Dean looked at Sam and shook his head, " What is wrong with you Sammy..?"

" I don't know…" Sam said with a smile, " Is it wrong that I just want us to have dinner together around the table like a family…?"

" While we discuss how dad is going to hang your ass out to a demon..?" Dean asked stubbornly.

" It could make for some interesting conversation.." Sam quipped as he looked pleadingly at his older brother, " Doone, please…"

And Dean groaned out loud at the use of the rarely used childhood name of his. He would probably kick Sam in the shin if his younger brother wasn't looking so pathetically child like in front of him.

" Fine…" Dean muttered as he strode past Sam and walked back into the kitchen.

Sam tried to hide the smile on his face as he re-took his seat, his father's dark eyes read with the words 'thank you', and that was more than enough for Sam to know that he had made the right choice.

So what if his ass would be on the firing line.?

He believed his dad when he said he would take care of him and that was good enough for him. It would just take a little longer to get Dean to come over to his way of thinking. Dean was suffering from major trust issues and Sam knew he couldn't blame him one little bit- truth was, Sam was having trust issues all of his own, he simply just buried it deep down in fear that if he allowed it to surface for just a second, just allowed it to sneak up and actually admit to how afraid he was of his father bailing on him again; he might not be able to cope.

And right now, coping is what Sam Winchester needed to be, along with ready to take out evil, be on your guard to keep your family alive and alert to protect the ones you loved.

Right now those people were sitting around the kitchen table, albeit it grudgingly, but they were all there.

And Sam wasn't about to lose his family.

Even if it meant putting his own life on the line…..

* * *

" That's your grand plan..?" Dean asked as he took a sip of his soda as he studied his father over his glass of cherry coke, " You're gonna send Sam wondering down the beach on his own, in the middle of the night, hoping to draw Fear out, and then, what..? You're gonna shoot it with the bullets Sam made, without even knowing if it'll work.."

Sam groaned inwardly.

Clearly Dean was not on board with this plan.

Ok truth be told, he wasn't so sure he was that on board with this plan, but he'd been damn hoping that Dean would be there to reassure him that their father's plan would work- not actually voice his concerns that John's plan just sounded well, stupid.

Dean's hazel green eyes locked with his, and Sam shrank in his seat. He stared at his own glass, noticing it was empty, got to his feet and headed towards the fridge, opened it and stuck his head in.

" What do you think Sam..?" Dean called as he leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed stubbornly.

Sam however was wondering if it was possible to climb into the fridge and vanish.

" Sammy..?" John called his voice softer, " The soda is sitting on the table…"

Sam groaned, of course it was, so now he just looked crazy for hiding in the fridge.

Straightening, he closed the fridge and promptly leaned against it. His eyes fell on the microwave clock, it was almost 9pm.

" Dad, I don't know about the whole beach idea…" Sam finally admitted, as he glanced over at the table. He watched as a triumphant look filtered across Dean's face. " I mean, I think using me to lure him out makes sense, taking him out while he's still not the strongest makes perfect sense…"

" How does it make sense..?" Dean snapped, as he turned and looked at Sam, " Anger knows dad and I are at war…"

" That's why you need to let this anger go Dean…" John said in a rational tone,

" Oh you would just love that wouldn't you…" Dean bitterly snapped at his father, " Let you right off the hook…"

" Dean…" Sam said in a patient tone.

" Don't you Dean me, Sammy…" Dean pointedly said, " I don't understand how you think having dad and I work together, will be a good idea, when we know that Anger could turn up at any point and have its merry way again…"

" Because if we don't kill fear now and kill anger instead…." John explained, " Fear will become the strongest, and if what Sam has said is right, he's already more powerful than the others. If we kill Anger first, we simply play into his hands and make him the ultimate power…"

" Dean it makes sense…." Sam said in a soft tone, " If we take out Anger and allow Fear to become the ultimate power, it'll destroy me and doing that will pretty much screw up everything for everyone…"

" I still don't get it…" Dean said shaking his head, " Why don't you just use me to bait Anger here…"

" Because then what, Dean..?" John explained, " You'll come after me with a gun leaving Sam to fight off two demons on his own, plus somehow stop you from putting a bullet between my eyes…"

" Dude, I'm good, but I'm not that good…." Sam said with a dry chuckle, " Besides, I'm not exactly back to 100% here Dean, I wouldn't be able to pull off all three things on my best day, but right now, I could barely do one…"

" So what do you think will happen eh, dad..?" Dean said tearing his eyes from Sam and studying his father, " You think Anger won't show up at all..? You think it won't let me get angry at you..?"

" Yeah it will…" John said with a solemn nod, " But I also believe that you care about Sam enough to look past it and get on with the job at hand. At the end of the day, it'll be just a normal hunt…"

" But with really shitty consequences if it goes to hell…" Dean muttered as he suddenly got from the table.

He was feeling trapped by his family and he hated that he was losing this argument. It made sense what they were saying. Kind of. But it didn't change the basic concept of what they were doing.

They were placing Sam directly in harms way and praying that the plan would take off without a hitch.

And that left Dean Winchester feeling like he was about to betray Sam all over again….

* * *

Dean was standing on the deck of the beach apartment, his eyes staring out at the dark waters that surrounded him. He turned when he heard a noise behind him and Sam gave him a meek smile.

" You've been really quiet since dinner…" Sam said as he came and lent against the railings, his body turned to face Dean.

" So is it time for us to lead you out there for your execution..?" Dean muttered tight lipped as he stared past Sam's head and out at the sky.

" Way to instil confidence in your little brother Dean…" Sam kidded but after seeing no humour on Dean's face, he grew serious, " I trust you and I trust dad…"

" Well good for you…" Dean grunted as he opened the gate and begun walking down the steps that led onto the beach. Sam quietly followed him.

" Dean please, you and dad have got to stop this, you have got to stop this hatred for him right now…" Sam pleaded, " If you don't, it's that, that is what's gonna get me killed, not the damn plan, you…."

" No pressure then…" Dean said clicked his tongue as he trudged in the sand, " You know, I just don't get why you are so willing to follow this plan of his."

" You know the rules Dean.." Sam said with a shrug.

" It's a stupid plan, Sam. A stupid plan that is gonna get your ass killed…" Dean snapped, " Yet you're following the man like he's done nothing wrong to us at all…"

" It may be a stupid plan Dean, but it's the only plan we've got…" Sam said simply, " And until we come up with a better one, we're going with his…"

" Well done for avoiding my question there.." Dean said titling his head to the side, " But I'll just ask it again.."

Sam scowled at his brother, " Why are you making this so damn hard…"

" I'm stubborn, I guess it runs in the family…" Dean pointedly responded.

Sam ran his hands lightly through his hair and rested his hands onto of his head. His hazel eyes turning to meet Dean.

" I just figured if we co-operate with dad, if I actually do what he asks of me…" Sam said with a shrug, " He won't, you know…"

Dean turned to face his younger brother, " He won't what..?"

Sam turned away, unable to meet his brother's eyes.

" He won't, what, Sam..?" Dean asked again as he took a step forward, " Leave, is that it..? You think if you do what dad asks of you, you think he'll stick around and won't leave..?"

" What's so wrong with that..?" Sam demanded, innocence shining from his eyes

Dean simply shook his head, " Dude you have got it bad…"

" I screwed up Dean, that's why he left…." Sam whispered, " If I'd just..-"

" What..? Shot your father in the cabin and killed him that would have made dad more happy..?" Dean demanded, " He would have been dead you idiot..!"

" You weren't even conscious in the damn car, you didn't hear what he had to say…" Sam said in a small voice, " He was angry Dean, really angry. He was mad that I…"

" What..?" Dean demanded, " He was angry at you for what..?"

" That I choose you over the friggin demon…" Sam said in a drained voice, " He said that he thought we shared the same motivations, with him losing mom and me losing Jessica…"

Dean stared dumbfounded at his younger brother.

" He said that..?" Dean said in disbelief. " He basically said he would have wanted you to kill the demon, even if it meant that you had to kill him and watch me bleeding all over the friggin place..?"

Sam sighed heavily, " This is just too hard…"

" That son of a bitch…" Dean growled, as he marched up to Sam, " Now you listen to me, you listen to me right now. You didn't make the wrong choice, you didn't screw up. That man in there was the one who screwed up ! How dare he ask his kid to kill him to fulfil his freaking twisted motivations for revenge…"

Sam stared at Dean and his head lowered, " I just don't want to give him any reason to leave Dean. I don't think I could handle it…"

Dean simply stared at his younger brother and sighed heavily.

" This is insane, you want me to work with dad on this..?" Dean said shaking his head, " You want me to take you onto that beach tonight knowing that I may have to watch you die..?"

" It's like the worse friggin Catch 22 I've ever seen…" Sam admitted, " If we kill them we're screwed, if we don't kill them we're screwed. If I let you kill anger, I'm dead, if I kill fear, you're dead…"

Dean stood in stony silence listening to the waves as they lapped against the shore line. A frightening realisation dawning on him that made his stomach churn.

John Winchester opened the sliding door and stood on the deck glancing between his children.

" Everything ok out here…?" John asked, keeping his voice light, hoping that the worry that was somersaulting through his stomach kept still.

Dean turned to look at him, his mood matching the dark night.

" How long did you know..?" Dean asked simply, as he took a step towards his father, " How long did you know that you were going to have to choose between Sam and I..?"

Dean ignored the murmurs behind him from his brother.

" You really think we'd be that stupid..?" Dean snapped, " Well you can forget it, you're not using Sam. End of discussion…"

" Dean, really it's fine…" Sam said with a strong nod.

And Dean felt his stomach plunge.

Holy friggin crap.

Sam had known.

" You knew, you knew that dad was choosing between the two of us…" Dean whispered in disbelief at his younger brother, " And you let him do it. Why..?"

" I thought about it, and this is the right thing to do Dean…." Sam said with a nod, trying to ignore the look on Dean's face and the pained expression on his fathers. " I'm just putting my life in god's hands and I'll see what happens…"

" That's bullshit and you know it…" Dean barked. " You should be ashamed of yourself.." Dean hissed at his father.

Dean strode back into the apartment, John on his heels.

" You really think I would just let your brother walk out there without a plan. Is that how little you think of me, you both think of me..? You really think I would choose between the two of you. You're both my children, I love you both, equally. I won't choose between the two of you…"

" Yeah well, call me stupid…" Dean spat as he yanked open the fridge and pulled out a beer, " But sending Sam out there to bait out Fear, is exactly that…"

" Give me some credit Dean…" John said simply, " I have a plan…"

" Yeah, and let me guess, it's just not the right time to let me in on it…" Dean angrily hissed.

" They might be listening…" John explained with a heavy sigh.

" He's right Dean…" Sam said in a reassuring tone.

Dean's eyes turned cold on him, " I swear to god, if you don't stop parroting him, I'm gonna thump you one…"

Sam went quiet and it was John's turn to grow annoyed.

" We don't have time for this Dean…" John said in a matter of fact tone, " This is how it's going to be…"

" Well forget it…" Dean snapped, " You want to kill Sam, you go right ahead dad- but me, I won't be a part of this. I won't watch you kill him…"

John simply shook his head and picked up the shot gun that lay on the table. He held it out to Dean.

" We don't have time for this Dean…" John said simply his hand out stretched with the gun.

" That's always been your problem dad, you never made time for what was important…" Dean whispered as he ignored the shot gun and walked back onto the veranda and disappeared down the steps onto the beach.

John watched his eldest walk away from sight and then turned to his youngest son who clearly looked torn.

" You still up for this Sam..?" John demanded, " Or are you going to bail as well…?"

Sam swallowed as his eyes darted to the dark beach and then back to the shot gun in his father's hand.

He nodded quietly and took the gun from his father.

A grateful smile filtered across John's face, " Your brother will come round…"

" I know…" Sam said clicking the safety back in place on the shot gun and gently placing it on the sofa, " But right now, this plan is on hold until I can talk to him…"

" Sam, we don't have the time…!" John snapped.

" Yeah well, dad, Dean's right…" Sam said with a shrug as he picked up his hoodie and pulled it on, " Sometimes you got to make time…"

John groaned inwardly as he watched as his youngest son vanished from sight.

This plan was so screwed now….

* * *

" Dean wait…!" Sam said jogging onto the dark beach, only light illuminating the night sky were the surrounding houses, and the moonlight.

Dean paused and looked back at his younger brother, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

" What are doing out here..?" Dean demanded as he folded his arms across his chest.

" Making sure you're ok…" Sam said with a shrug, " You're pretty pissed at dad, I get that ok. But walking out in the middle of a hunt, dude this is not like you.."

" I'm not doing this Sam, that's the end of the story…" Dean said matter of fact tone, " Now go back to the house, it's safer there…"

" You think I'm gonna leave you out there on your own…?" Sam said with a shake of his head, " Dean, you're an idiot…"

Dean looked up at his brother in shock, " Excuse me..?"

" You heard me..!" Sam snapped, " You're just pissed because you're not the one who gets to take the risk.."

" You're damn right…!" Dean yelled at him, " It's my job to protect you..!"

" Where in the world did you get that stupid notion from Dean, you're my brother, it's my job to watch your back…" Sam snapped back, " The bottom line is that we are doing this tonight. I came out here to get you to see sense, but you clearly have got yourself into pissed off mode. I'm doing this Dean, whether you're standing by me or not. This is not your choice. Sending me out there on my own- that would be letting me down. But coming with dad and I and backing us up- that makes sense.."

Dean stood shaking his head, " I can't do this, try to understand where I am coming from Sammy…"

Sam sighed heavily and looked at his older brother, " I would hate it if the roles were reversed and I'd probably be kicking stink over it as well…"

" But…" Dean whispered.

" I'd swallow my pride and back you up…" Sam said simply as he turned to leave, " Because that's what brothers do. That's what you do for the people you love…"

" It's hard Sam…" Dean said to his brother's back as he watched as Sam walked back towards their home, " Sam you have no idea how hard this is..!"

" I do, but sometimes doing the right thing isn't easy Dean…" Sam said several feet away from Dean, " But you do it anyway and pray that it works out…"

Dean watched as Sam disappeared from sight, tears of anger and rage, but more importantly helplessness stung at his eyes.

" I can't lose you Sammy…" Dean whispered to the empty night air, " I can't go through that again…"

* * *

Dean stormed into the apartment, his hazel green eyes bright with anger. He walked over to his gun which sat on the kitchen counter, and without even looking at his family, he walked back out calling over his shoulder

" Lets get this over with….."

* * *

" Just 20 feet or so, no more Sam…" John said in a persistent tone, " You understand me..?"

Sam rolled his eyes and turned and walked down the beach, allowing his father and brother to drop behind him.

John glanced at Dean who walked beside him silently, gun drawn, eyes studying his surroundings.

" Sam will be fine…" John said with a confident nod.

" He better be, because if anything goes wrong…" Dean growled, " It'll be on your head.."

John nodded silently and returned his eyes at the situation that lay ahead of him.

Sam had gone on ahead, unarmed trying to draw out Fear, while Dean now took step in front of his father, allowing John to bring up the rear.

Dean's movements alone indicated to John how tense he was. He was far from happy with the situation, but right now John couldn't do anything about it. He knew he was right and Sam agreed with him. Fear had to be killed first; he couldn't be the last one left. If he did, he didn't have a clue how he would stop him. Sam had already expressed that Fear was the strongest, that he was the ultimate power amongst the four of his Alchemists- and if Sam said he was the strongest, then he was.

It was just a simple fact.

Dean however wasn't enjoying this idea one little bit. He watched as Sam walked ahead, the dark night only illuminated by the moon, the waves crashing in the distance as they walked along the beach.

This was such a stupid idea, even for the Winchesters.

Sam Winchester glanced behind him. Unsurprisingly, Dean wasn't listening to the orders John has issued, which at any other given moment, Sam would have found funny. Dean not following orders. The words didn't even belong in the same sentence- and yet they were playing out right in front of him.

The younger Winchester jumped when Dean landed noisily beside him.

" What are you doing here, go back..?" Sam hissed at him as he sent him an annoyed look.

" There's something out here, I swear it Sam, I can see them looking at us.." Dean said in a low voice, " Can't you feel it, their eyes on us..?"

Sam nodded in the darkness and then finally found his voice, " I thought it was only in my head..."

" Well it's not..." Dean muttered as he snapped the safety off his gun, " I knew this plan was stupid..."

" So what do we do..?" Sam whispered, " Dude, we got to see this out, they don't know that we know what they're doing.."

Dean gave his younger brother a funny look in the dark, " We know what they're doing..?"

" Playing us for fools.." Sam muttered, " Luring us all out here.."

Dean shook his head and glanced back at his father, and his mouth fell open.

John Winchester was gone.......

* * *

John kept his head low as he hid behind a large sand dune waiting to hear the low murmurs of his sons' voice grow agitated and sure enough it came.

He raised his head gingerly to see what was happening.

He just prayed that Dean had been paying attention when he'd told him he would have to keep calm, because, his eldest needed to keep calm.

He needed to stay calm right now.

Because in the dark night, the swarm of particles swirled and gathered around his children separating them by pulling them away from each other's out stretched hands.

John watched as Dean fired without hesitation straight into the nearest demon. The father groaned inwardly as he watched the demon simply pick his youngest son and throw him violently away from Dean, increasing the distance between the boys.

Dean's voice calling for him reached his ears and it took every ounce of strength not to call back, to reassure his boys that he had not deserted them.

His eyes went to the still form of his youngest child, he could just about see him stirring, trying to pull his heavy limbs into action to help his brother and John could feel himself bursting with pride- if only it was an occasion he could actually celebrate.

" Come on Dean.." John whispered, " Stay strong...."

But Dean wasn't staying strong.

John watched with wide shock as the green eyed monster charged straight into his eldest son, the shells in his son's shot gun doing nothing to slow the bastard down. It ploughed straight through him and came out the other side.

And it was then John realised that his plan had gone down the pan.

Dean shakily got up from his knees and his hands reached for his shot gun, and aimed it straight in the direction of John's hiding place.

Anger had struck again.

" You betrayed us you son of a bitch...!" Dean screamed, " You left us to die...!"

John's eyes frantically went to Sam who was doing his best at trying to keep Fear at bay. It didn't take a genius to know that in the physical condition Sam was in, the younger boy wouldn't be able to hold him off.

John's eyes glanced between both Sam and Dean.

He had to shoot one of the demons and save one of his children.

But which one..?

* * *

**Any reviews I get only act as a major incentive right now. Yeah, I suck with updates, but if it helps, as I'm posting this, I'm starting the next chapter right now :o)**


	20. Funky Things in my Head

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I received some very interesting PM's regarding the season and it was an eye opener hearing everyone's opinion on how they feel this season is going. Once again, thanks for reading, I know I'm moving slow at the moment, so I really do appreciate everyone who is still hanging on to this story and reading it. Also, a big hello to all the new readers who have jumped on board and a big thanks to those who added me to their alerts ;O) This chapter is unbetaed, so all howlers belong to me. This chapter dedicated to my lovely beta Carol, who I promise I will send the next chapter to.**

**Chapter 20-Funky Things in my Head**

Dean pulled up short and stared at the gun in his hand. It suddenly felt like a foreign object, and that was so not normal.

Looking in the darkness, he could see his father standing on top of a sand dune waving frantically at him with both hands over his head.

He finally turned behind him and he was pretty sure a little yelp slipped out of his mouth, because what he could see happening, was so not a good sight.

Sam was being tossed around like drift wood by one hulking, kick ass spirit and instinct all but took over. The older Winchester simply held his gun out and fired at the spirit. More shots rained down on the spirit, and it took Dean a moment or two to realise that the shots were not coming from his own gun.

Seconds later, John Winchester ran past him towards his fallen son, while Dean stood on the spot trying to understand what the hell had happened.

Either he'd just passed out and missed a very important part of this battle, or he'd hit his head a little too hard.

Either way he quickly jogged after his father, looped an arm around his unconscious brother's body and helped carry the silent youngster back to their beach apartment.

Sometimes being a Winchester could be a confusing business….

* * *

It didn't take long for his sense to come back though, and by the time they'd got Sam settled in his bed, and his father was on his second scotch of the night, Dean was all but tearing a hole in the floorboards by his frantic pacing.

" So let me get this perfectly straight…" Dean said spinning to stare at his father, " You get the opportunity to kill Fear, just like you'd been beating into my head the whole freaking night that this is what you wanted- and yet, you don't kill it, you kill Anger…"

" That's about it…" John said reaching for the bottle of Jack and pouring himself another one, Dean watched wide eyed and shook his head in horror.

" Why..?" Dean demanded, " You put us through this all, for what..?"

" It was going to kill you Doone, I didn't have a choice…" John said his eyes far away as he sucked down the drink, " It was going to have you kill me, and then kill you…"

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead he sank into the couch opposite his father and let his eyes close for a second, hoping that the next time he opened them, this whole freaking mess would have been nothing but some rather screwed up nutty nightmare.

Of course nothing was ever that simple for the Winchester's now was it.

" How's Sam..?" Dean quietly asked, " He's been through so much in such a short space of time Dad, his body, I don't know if he can handle this, physically or mentally…"

" I'll be fine…" Came a tired voice behind them.

Dean turned and watched his younger brother standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

" You should be resting, go back to bed…." Dean chided as he studied Sam's split lip and new purple coloured eye, " We'll head to bed soon as well…"

" It's been a long day…" Sam said walking past his father and giving his shoulder a squeeze. John's hands wrapped around his son's and held it tightly for a few fleeting seconds and finally letting go, only to pour himself another drink.

Sam sat down beside Dean on the couch who was curling on his side, while toeing off his boots, when John clambered nosily to his feet and stumbled off towards the kitchen, carrying his drink.

Sam gave his brother a poke in the hip.

" Is he ok..?" Sam asked in a small voice.

" I doubt it…" Dean said his eyes closed, " I guess he's not dealing too well, with the idea that he's sentenced you to death…"

Sam tried to ignore the sarcasm in Dean's voice and gave him another poke.

" You guys act like I can't look after myself…" Sam said in a stubborn tone, " Well, I can, and I'll prove it…"

" I think you have a concussion…" Dean muttered,

" And I think you're an ass…" Sam heatedly snapped.

Dean opened one of his eyes and stared at Sam, " I'm the ass…?"

" Yup.." Sam said stubbornly.

" That's rich coming from you, this was after all you and dad's crazy idea, remember..?" Dean muttered, " I don't know why nobody in this family ever listens to me..."

" What was I supposed to do Dean..? I'd already gone against what dad wanted and he took off and left us for dead in a freaking hospital..!" Sam suddenly blurted out, " I was scared ok, scared that he'd just leave us and you'd blame me for everything and don't pretend like you don't, cause I know you do..."

Sam's hand suddenly shot to his mouth and covered it tightly while Dean untangled himself for his position on the sofa to face his younger brother.

" Where the, hell, did that come from..?" Dean demanded, as he studied Sam who seemed to afraid to remove his hand from his mouth.

" Sam...?" Dean asked again.

" I think you're right Dean..." Sam said suddenly getting to his feet, " I think I have got a concussion..."

Sam hurried back to his room, ignoring his screaming and protesting body which argued at the speed he was moving. He was about to close the door shut when Dean shoved his hand in between the gap.

Sam stared at the hand, and was half tempted to close it with it still in its place.

" I could have squashed your hand.." Sam muttered in a defeated tone as he shuffled to his bed and climbed into it, pulling the covers around him.

" Well you didn't..." Dean said coming into the room, and sighing heavily, " Dude, what you just said, it's bull and you need to believe that. What dad did, was down to him, not you. You didn't do anything wrong, and I don't blame you for any of it..."

" Well you should..." Sam said in half a smile, " Cause it would be true, I pretty much screwed your life up from the day I got mom killed..."

Dean shook his head and came a little closer towards him, " Sammy, where is this coming from..? I don't blame you for what happened to mom, she was your mom too..."

" But dad does..." Sam whispered, " Mom died trying to save me, and he lost his wife and you lost mom. You don't think I see that look in his eyes, where he wonders what life would have been like if I'd died instead of mom..."

" Ok this, this is ridiculous..." Dean said holding up his hand to end the conversation, " He does not think that, he just wants that bastard dead, all the bastards dead; and that's a good thing..."

" Well one of us is wrong Dean, and I'm pretty damn sure it's not...-" Sam suddenly sat up in the bed and looked directly at Dean, " Can you smell that..?"

Dean sniffed the air, and opened Sam's bedroom door again, " That smells like smoke..."

Before Sam could even force himself out of bed, the lord shrill of the fire alarm echoed around the apartment.

" What is he doing..?" Sam muttered as he hurried out the room and found Dean in the kitchen, scolding their clearly drunk father, who looked dazed and confused to why his toast was two special shades of black.

Dean had automatically slid back into the role he'd been forced into taking when Mary had died, the one who had had to be the good soldier, the one that took care of everyone, the one who had had no choice, because if he didn't; then the whole family would have fallen apart.

Sam's heart broke just a little more.

**You forced him to be like that. He had no choice but to become what he was because of you.**

And it was right.

Because Sam had always known that deep down, everything that had happened to his family was his entire fault.

If he had just died in the nursery, none of this would have happened.

Because then his father would have been happy to have Mary back and Dean would have had a mommy. They could have always had another child to replace him, one that would have been nicer and kinder and more worthy to have a family like his.

Because that was one of Sam Winchester's fears.

He was scared that his family blamed him for what happened to Mary......

* * *

John Winchester sat down on the steps of the veranda and stared out at the dark beach, the gentle waves crashing in the background doing nothing to ease his fears. Dean had all but collapsed on the sofa and was out for the count, while Sam had fallen into a rather restless slumber, refusing to go to bed until the rest of them did.

He was pretty sure both kids would wake up with sore necks in the morning, that is, if they even woke up at all. Call it a haunch, or father's intuition, but the way things were going for them all, the house would probably burn down before morning anyway- especially if he tried to make toast for his children again.

Guess the mumbled, half attempt at an explanation to Dean about trying to stop his kids from starving hadn't gone down to well with his eldest who has simply glared a hole straight to his soul.

John knew deep down that things between him and his eldest were shot to pieces. He'd always had Dean on his side, always. No matter what he did, no matter how bad he screwed up, Dean always backed him up. Stood by him, allowed him to bumble through his apologises, which all too quickly became orders and Dean had simply taken it year after year after year.

But this time he'd snapped.

This time nothing could repair the damage to what he did.

Sam had died and he had walked away and left his son, his eldest son alone. It was bad enough the hatred Dean felt for him for simply leaving them at the hospital when Sam had been ill, but the idea, the very thought of Dean, or Sam for that matter, ever, _ever_ finding out that he still left after he had found out that Sam had died was unforgivable.

The very thought of his children finding out the extent of his betrayal made his empty stomach churn.

Then there was Sam.

His sweet, little hard headed, too stubborn for his own damn good, son.

And he loved and cherished that boy, along with Dean more than life itself, and somewhere along the line his youngest had stopped believing it. He'd heard them, outside on the veranda, Sam admitting that he was only going along with his plan to stop his father from leaving. Sam was so fragile right now, so scared of losing his father that he was willing to walk himself right into harm's way just to make his slightly deranged father happy.

Well, John was convinced he was deranged anyway, or at least, well on the way to it.

Now Fear was lurking around his boys with a passion that filled him with disgust. The boys were tired, exhausted from their constant running, drained from always having their wits about them- having no time to gather their strength and get back on their feet.

His sons were some of the best hunters John had ever known, even when they were operating on only 50%, but John knew they were operating on a hell of a lot less than that.

Both boys were running on empty.

Sam's tank had been empty since the crash, having never been given the time to catch his breath, to get better, while Dean, Dean seemed to be simply running himself into the ground.

Not to mention there was something particular odd about the boys and the way they were at the moment with each other. John wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he knew, he knew, there was much more to what had happened with these demons before he'd arrived in Clearwater.

John stared at the half empty bottle of Jack, and took a swig from the top. Why bother using the glass, it still only had one destination, so why delay the sweet experience by placing it in a glass ?

Just right now, John didn't have the time to go into finding out what was wrong with them, maybe because part of him had no idea how to even go about doing it. But he'd changed. Ok, sitting here with the bottle in his hand swigging back warm whiskey wasn't exactly an indicator that he had changed, but he knew in himself that he had. He knew his relationship with his children had to change, He had to start seeing them, treating them as exactly what they were- his boys. They weren't soldiers on some mission, they were his children and both of them were in bad places right now and both needed help.

Both needed help in very different ways, so he knew he had to prioritise, but he planned to somehow be the hero, and save his youngest boy and heal his eldest.

And then he thought back to the scenario on the beach and those precious couple of seconds he'd taken on the sand to choose which son to save.

He took another drink because he'd saved Dean.

He downed another because he'd condemned Sam to death.

Staring out into the moonlight sky, the water crashing gently out at sea, John Winchester made a promise.

He would save Sam.

And in the process save Dean.

Now if only, he could just figure out how the hell to do it before Fear reared its ugly head again.....

**

* * *

****He chose not to save you.**

**You do realise that, don't you..?**

**He stood there on the beach, looked around, and chose Dean.**

**It's just like you always thought Sam.**

**Just like you always believed it was.**

**Dean's his favourite.**

**The good little solider that didn't make dad angry.**

**You, the disappointment that always brought misery to your family's door.**

**You'd be better off dead.**

**You know it.**

**I know it.**

**So why don't you do something about it.**

Sam's eyes flew open, his breathing coming out in sharp gasps.

The warm sunshine spread lovingly over the living room, as the veranda door was wide open, allowing the Florida sunshine to invade their cold little world.

Sitting up on the sofa, he clicked his neck slowly, trying to ease the kinks out of his badly aligned neck and shoulders. His breathing was still rattling though around his body, his heart hammering in his chest.

Either that was his mind playing tricks on him.

Or that was one vivid nightmare.

Swinging his legs off the sofa, Dean poked his head around the sliding door and promptly came in.

" Morning sleeping beauty…" Dean kidded as he carried over a cup of something hot towards Sam and held it out to him, " I don't know where dad got this stuff from, but it's hitting the spot…"

Sam stared baby eyed at his elder brother. He willed himself to take the coffee, the simple task of just accepting a cup of damn coffee from Dean though, felt like climbing the nearest mountain.

Trust was a very funny thing.

Especially when your last thought had been of your family wanting you dead, and previous occasions had had your own brother drugging you to kill you.

Sam simply stared at Dean's coffee offering hand and slowly shook his head.

" Come on Sam…" Dean said in a small voice.

Sam could hear the plea. Dean rarely ever begged, and it broke Sam up just to hear that tone in his brother's voice. Dean shouldn't have to beg him to take a freaking cup of coffee from him- but he was. And yet, Sam still couldn't take it.

He couldn't help Dean feel better about himself. He still couldn't help heal the rift between the two of them. If he took the coffee it was proof that he'd forgiven his overly-influenced older brother, but he still couldn't take it.

He was making Dean feel worse.

And it in turn plunged Sam's self worth down to nothing.

" I'll just leave it here, drink it when you're ready, but before it gets cold…" Dean cautioned and simply turned and walked back out onto the deck.

Sam ran his hands through his dark down hair and kneaded at his scalp.

Why was he doing this..? Why was he going out of his way to make Dean feel bad..?

Because he was a bad person.

Just the way that dream had told him.

All he did was bring misery to his family.

Maybe it would be better if he just died.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, the younger Winchester got unsteadily to his feet and walked towards the bathroom…..

* * *

John Winchester, nursing a very unhelpful hangover, watched the bathroom door close and then quietly walked onto the deck. He could see Dean in the distance, the older boy clearly having gone for a walk along the beach.

Closing the sliding door, John took a sip of his own strong black, no sugar coffee, and slipped his cell phone out of his jeans pocket.

He dialled a number and waited.

" Why are you calling me..?" Came a humorous, but tired sigh from the voice on the phone.

" Ben, the Colt, where is it..?" John demanded, " You said you were going to send it…"

" I am, you think this is just a walk in the freakin park..? I still got no clue to how I'm going to ask them to send it to you, without explaining to them, why they are friggin well doing this…" Ben heatedly snapped, " So don't get antsy with me John, I don't enjoy lying to my boys. That may be a trait with you, but not me…"

John sighed and rubbed a hand over his stubble.

" You're right, ok, you're right.." John admitted, " I know I'm asking a lot from you, really I do, and I know you hate lying to your kids- but man, I am desperate here…"

" Isn't that always the case for you John..?" Ben countered, " Look, give me a couple minutes, maybe I can get them to send it to you now…"

" How are they..? Your boys…." John asked quietly, " I was thinking about them last night, the way they went after that Sypher demon.."

" I ought to kick their heads in over that…" Ben muttered, " They'll live, cuts and bruises, but nothing broken…"

" I'm glad to hear it.." John said with a nod, " But that gun, Ben I need it.."

" I'm glad you went after Anger like I told you too…" Ben said, " It's much more easier to take out than Fear.."

John dragged a chair out from under the table on the deck and sat down.

" Why do you say that..?" John said in a clearly pained tone.

" Because Fear is deadly, while the others take over an emotion, and then builds on it, exaggerates the feeling…" Ben explained, " But Fear, Fear doesn't have to exaggerate it, or build on it, because those fears are already there, inside of you. The things that you buried at the back of your mind…"

" But the Colt, it'll kill it right..?" John said, " Of course it will, that gun can kill anything…"

" You did kill Anger right..?" Ben said sucking in a sharp breath. The lack of answer on the other side caused the other man to swear, " God damn it John, why didn't you do it..?"

" I don't know, it happened too quick…" John blurted out, " Both of them were in trouble, but Dean would have been killed…"

" And didn't I warn you, warn you that it would go after Dean, and yet you still take it out…?" Ben snapped, " It was setting you up you idiot and you walked straight into it.."

" I already know that…" John said between gritted teeth, " I didn't call you for a lecture…"

" Yeah well, you're gonna damn well get one…!" Ben barked, " Now listen to me, and listen very carefully, you have got to kill Fear now. Not this afternoon, not this evening, now."

" I would if you send me the freakin Colt..!" John bitterly snapped, " I can't lose Sam, I can't lose either of them, those boys are all I've got Ben, I don't know what I would do without them…"

There was silence on the other side of the phone.

" John, listen very carefully to what I'm saying to you. Fear is already there…" Ben said in a slow, low tone, " It's feeding off your fear at losing your children. Your heart is hammering, you're sweating, right..? Well it's there and chances are it's been there all night.."

John's eyes darted around on the deck.

" Shit.." John whispered.

" Where are Dean and Sam..?" Ben demanded, " This thing will go specifically after Sam, but that doesn't mean it can't feed off you and Dean as well, keep those boys and yourself together- don't let them take off…"

" The Colt, please…" John said, " Send it…"

" It's on its way…" Ben said solemnly, " Johnny, please be careful…"

" You know me, I'm always careful…" John kidded as he stood up on the deck, his eyes trying to scan for his eldest son out on the sand.

" That's just it John, I do know you, that's what scares me…" Ben chuckled, " Watch your back Winchester…"

John nodded to the empty air and let the phone disconnect, his feet were already moving towards the gate at the deck and he was down onto the sand, his cell phone at his ear trying to call his eldest son.

He couldn't help think about all those thoughts that had flooded his mind, all those thoughts about losing his kids, about them never forgiving him, about them hating him for what he did.

Maybe that was all Fear.

Maybe that was the demon.

Or maybe, John Winchester enjoyed living in denial….

**

* * *

****Reviews are like cold remedy right now ! Nose is blocked and head hurts too much to stare at the computer. Damn cold weather. Make me smile and leave me a review ! Xxxx**


End file.
